


The Shadow Over Solstheim

by Thanatopsiturvy



Series: A Dunmer's Guide to Dealing with Bards [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Backstory, Bards Annoy Everyone, Bards College (Elder Scrolls), Canon Compliant, Dunmer - Freeform, Dunmer Are Sexy, Fantastical Racism, Half-Elves, M/M, Morag Tong, Morrowind, Ok Maybe I Change Quite a Bit, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Teldryn is a Cranky Cinnamon Roll, Until it isn't, everyone is sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-10-15 11:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 47,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17527514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thanatopsiturvy/pseuds/Thanatopsiturvy
Summary: Teldryn Sero could hardly remember the last time in his life when he truly felt bored. For this, he was thankful. But when a charismatic, unusually tall Nord stumbles into the Retching Netch one late afternoon, the old Dunmer may have finally bitten off more than he can chew. None-the-less, his skills are always for hire... at the right price.A re-telling of the Dragonborn storyline through the eyes of Teldryn Sero - intrepid companion and officially Too Old For This Shit™-(The title is a nod to HP Lovecraft because Hermaeus Mora is just a love letter to him anyways).





	1. Outlander

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the story that WILL NOT LET ME SLEEP.  
> I'm kind of breaking one of my own rules and posting this before I have it more or less completely finished, but I don't feel my inspiration dying any time soon (and I'm nearly 15,000 words in as it is). I'm hoping you beautiful readers will help inspire me to keep my ass writing as well. 
> 
> The moment I laid eyes on Teldryn Sero's masked face in the Retching Netch I though "oh shit, I bet he's hot under that chitin." Turns out he is, and he's also just all around the best follower you can get in the whole damn game.  
> I've taken a bit of liberty with creating a bit more of a back story for him, but it's all done with the utmost reverence. 
> 
> My Dragonborn is actually based off a D&D character of mine (ayyee).
> 
> That's all the notes for now, enjoy chapter one!

_“No man or woman born, coward or brave, can shun his destiny.”- Homer, **The Iliad**_

 

\---

 

The door to the Retching Netch swung open, stirring up small dust devils as the harsh, warm winds of southern Solstheim swept through the entryway. Teldryn Sero glanced up from his seat near the back of the room, more out of habit than anything, wondering which of the local drunkards was heading into the Netch to start in early on their nightly benders. The silhouette that stood in the doorway wasn’t anyone he recognized right off the bat – a tall, slender frame, sturdy and proud, that looked to be wearing some kind of light armor. As the door closed and the harsh light from the outside faded, Teldryn found himself pleasantly surprised to see an outlander.

 

The man was a Nord, most likely, though he seemed not to be of the usual heft that defined his kinsmen. The man took off his worn hide helmet to reveal a head full of dusty blond hair, shaved on the sides and pulled back into a thick, somewhat disheveled braid. The man smiled at the room with an odd sort of confidence before walking down the stairs to the main bar room, helmet propped casually against his hip beneath his arm. Teldryn huffed in amusement, re-situating himself on his chair, content to let his mind slide back into his own musings. However, it became apparent that Teldryn wasn’t the only one who noticed the outlander’s entrance. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mogrul, quickly followed by his dog of a bodyguard, Slitter, began to follow the outlander down the stairs. Teldryn smirked beneath his face scarf. _Finally, something interesting to help pass the time._

 

The outlander swaggered up to the bar with more confidence than any foreigner should have, sitting heavily on one of the stools.

“Welcome to the Retching Netch!” Geldis began, easing into his usual shtick. “Finest sujamma on the island and clean rooms that can make anyone feel at home.” Teldryn scoffed at the tired cliches, surreptitiously making his way to one of the more darkened corners of the lower level to observe the show. Just as expected, Mogrul stalked over to the newcomer, a deep scowl on his face.

“Outlander,” he growled. “You seem to be lost. Your type isn’t welcome here.” Slitter crossed his arms from where he stood behind the orc, aiming for intimidation and very nearly accomplishing it.

“I’ll take some of your house sujamma,” the Nord said to Geldis, boldly ignoring the threatening duo. Geldis eyed the loan shark and his bodyguard nervously before dipping down behind the bar to grab a bottle of the brew.

“Are you ignoring me, Nord scum?” Mogrul demanded, moving into a more threatening stance. Even as imposing as the orc was, once the outlander turned his attention to Mogrul and stood from his seat at the bar, the Nord was nearly half a foot taller than the orc. Teldryn crinkled his brow at that - Nords weren't exactly known for their towering statures. This outlander was proving to be a bit more interesting than he had anticipated.

“My apologies,” the man said in a clipped accent that, once again, was unusual for his race. “Did I do something to offend you? I only stepped foot on the island half an hour ago.”

Mogrul’s face twisted into an expression of confusion, stepping back slightly and bumping into his bodyguard. Teldryn smiled to himself once more. The orc seemed to have bitten off more than he could chew. How delightful.

“Just want to make sure you know your place,” Mogrul growled, slowly walking backwards. “I’ll give you this warning only once. Stay out of my way, and we’ll do just fine.”  

“Certainly a fair request, so long as I can expect the same from you in return. Considering you were the one to seek me out in the first place, I'd say you have the bigger job cut out for you,” the Nord quipped, bearing his teeth in a feral sort of smile. Teldryn decided he rather liked this outlander.

 

Mogrul and Slitter stomped off with as much pride as they could manage as the Nord sat back down at the bar and took the sujamma gratefully from Geldis. It was then that Teldryn saw the rather fat coin satchel the man pulled from to pay for the drink. Oh yes, he _very much_ liked this outlander. 

 

“So, you’ve been here for less than an hour and you’ve already made quite a ruckus,” Teldryn remarked, sliding easily into a seat at the bar next to the Nord. The man took a long, gulping swig of sujamma, taking a moment to smack his lips and wipe his hand on the back of his gauntlets before looking over at Teldryn with a crooked smile.

“Hello, handsome. Are you also here to threaten me?” he chuckled, leaning one elbow on the bar. Teldryn found himself momentarily dumbfounded at being called handsome while wearing full chitin armor. The Nord filled the silence easily, his tone pleasant and melodic.

“I’m quite used to it, if I’m honest. It seems these kinds of folk find me no matter where I end up. But, such is the life of the adventuring type, I suppose. There’s always someone out there either trying to fight me or fuck me.” His bright amber eyes gleamed with amusement. “Now which of those are you aiming for, my friend?”

 

Teldryn blinked dumbly behind his goggles for a moment before mentally shaking himself back into reality.

“While your outlook on life is… fascinating, I’m not trying to kill you _or_ bed you,” Teldryn nearly laughed at the absurdity of the conversation. Nearly. “The name is Teldryn Sero. The best swordsman in all Morrowind. Since you seem to make enemies so easily, I would be happy to offer you my services... for the right price," he added lowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he extended his hand to the man. The stranger looked at Teldryn’s hand for a moment, as if to study it, before extending his own, flashing a winning grin at the elf.

“Aerik Havardr. It’s a pleasure,” he shook Teldryn’s hand firmly. “Now, what might ‘the right price’ be?”

“Five hundred septims and I will not only serve as your protector and body guard, but also act as a guide on this… fine island we find ourselves on,” Teldryn gestured vaguely at their surroundings. The Nord, Aerik, laughed warmly.

“Well, that is quite the deal,” he chuckled. “I just have one question before I accept: have you possibly heard of anyone named… Miraak?”

 

The name stirred up vague images in Teldryn’s mind – winged silhouettes in the sky, a crumbling temple, a writhing darkness… Even as he heard the name, that same darkness seemed to tug at the corners of his vision, reminding him of sleepless nights where he woke up in cold sweats, the shadows around him seeming to recede with his wakefulness.

“Miraak…” he said, disturbed by the sound of his own voice. “It… sounds so familiar, but… I can’t seem to understand why.” Aerik’s expression had turned stony, his mouth set into a grim line.

“Yeah, that’s what everyone seems to say…” Before Teldryn could ask for clarification, the man clapped his hands together enthusiastically, completely breaking out of his brief reverie.

“Well, you’re hired!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, such a short chapter, I know. I'm going to aim to post a new chapter once a week, but I may break that rule to post the first two back-to-back. 
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated!


	2. Killing... Before You're Killed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wham Bam, Chapter 2.  
> We get a little bit of back story in this from both our leading men. Hooray for character building.  
> Note: I'm my own beta for this story, so some typos and errors may slip past my notice. Many apologies. 
> 
> Dunmer Formalities:  
> 'Sera' is a term of respect, essentially the equivalent of Sir/Ma'am.  
> 'Serjo' is a term of great respect, usually implying holding some kind of high rank, more so equivalent to Lord/Lady.

_“Is he not sacred, even to the gods, the wandering man who comes in weariness?”- Homer, **The Iliad**_

 

\---

 

Aerik seemed to like Solstheim. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Aerik seemed to be _amused_ by Solstheim. So far, it seemed like everything wanted to kill him, and that was what he apparently considered a good time. He let out a barking laugh as one of the Ash Spawn currently assaulting him and his disgruntled companion crumpled to dust at the swing of his Elven sword.

“I’m sorry,” Teldryn called out in irritation, expertly taking down one of the other Ash Spawns. “Is something about this situation amusing to you?”

“Just having a bit of fun with it,” Aerik replied, tossing his sword in the air to switch it to his left hand as his right began to crackle, gathering electrical energy.

“Find dancing with death fun, do you?” Teldryn shot back, charging the final Ash Spawn, sword drawn tightly up at his right shoulder, ready to strike.

 

Before he could reach it, an immense bolt of chain lightning completely eviscerated the creature, causing it to let out a blood-chilling shriek as it disintegrated. Teldryn let his sword fall to his side, swiveling to face his employer, thankful for the mask that covered the slack-jawed look of surprise on his face. _A Nord who uses magic…_ The man was getting more intriguing by the moment. Aerik wore a shit-eating grin, right hand still crackling with energy.

“Oh this is hardly dancing,” he assured, sheathing his weapon and walking to the ash pile that now lay at Teldryn’s feet. “Ooh, look, a ruby.”

“You damn Nords are out of your mind,” Teldryn sighed, sheathing his own weapon.

“Half,” Aerik corrected as he crouched to inspect the Ash Spawn’s remains.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m only half Nord. My father was Altmer,” the man explained much too casually, sifting through the ash pile. “I think there’s a bit of ore in here we could probably smelt and get some extra coin for. Do you have something we could store it in?”

 

Once again, Teldryn found himself at a loss for words. That didn’t usually happen, and especially not multiple times in one day. He silently unhooked one of the pouches from his waist and handed it to Aerik, who quickly stashed the ruby and small ore fragments inside.

“What’s wrong? Never met a half breed before?” Aerik smirked, looking up at the Dunmer with a playful look in his eyes. Teldryn mentally winced at the nasty slur. Well, the Altmer in him certainly explained the height, as well as the odd, golden eyes. But how incredibly rare, considering those stuffy golden elves were nearly inbred with how much they revered purity in their bloodline. He crossed his arms defiantly.

“I’ve most certainly met individuals of mixed birth,” Teldryn scoffed, which belied the fact that he could probably only count them on one hand. “I may not act it, but I’ve been walking this land for a great many years.”

“So you’re old,” Aerik interjected, standing up and brushing off his pants. Teldryn prickled.

“By your standards, yes, I am _very_ old.” He snatched the pouch back from Aerik’s outstretched hand. The man was wearing what Teldryn was beginning to recognize as one of his signature grins. Ah, so it was to be a game, then. What will ruffle old Teldryn’s feathers the most? Very well.

 

Aerik spun on his heels and began marching over to the old abandoned shack from which the Ash Spawn had attacked them.

“It’s getting late, and I’d rather not travel by night on this island,” Aerik called over his shoulder. “We could probably make camp here with what’s left of this house.” He kicked one of the piles of ashen dirt as he walked over to a rather enticing looking, albeit worn, chest. Reaching to his belt, Aerik swung a ring of several fancy looking lock picks around his fingers before picking one and going to work on the lock.

“Sera, look to your right,” Teldryn suggested, walking quietly across the old floorboards. Just as the sound of the lock giving way reached their ears, Aerik shifted his gaze to spy the trapped door that lay imbedded, nearly hidden, in the floor next to the chest.

 

The Nord put a gloved finger over his lips before making a few more hand signals implying they check out who or what may be hidden beneath the house. Teldryn nodded curtly, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Aerik quietly lifted the hatch, silently climbing down the rickety ladder. Teldryn followed quickly behind, his chitin armor grating annoyingly loud next to the nearly imperceptible light armor that Aerik wore.

 

At the bottom of the ladder, soft firelight flickered from a far corner of a basement cellar.

“They’re all the same…” came a gruff voice followed by the sound of chewing. Teldryn dropped softly to the floor beside Aerik, immediately crouching to match his patron’s posture. The Nord motioned for them to move forward, pulling an Elven bow from his back. The weapon gleamed with some kind of enchantment, and Teldryn smiled as he drew his own bow. The two moved silently around the corner, peering out from behind a half-barricade of furniture and old storage crates. Two Reavers, a dark elf and an orc, sat at a weathered table, munching on bread and most likely talking about women. The Dunmer cackled drunkenly at whatever the Orsimer had just said.

 

Without taking his eyes off the bandits, Aerik withdrew two Dwarven arrows from his quiver, handing one of them to Teldryn. He pointed at himself, then at the orc, then at Teldryn, then the dark elf. Teldryn nodded, understanding exactly what was about to happen. He smiled openly behind his mask. Old habits die hard, and a stealthy kill always got his embers glowing.

 

The two shuffled through the shadows just alongside the barricade, nocking their arrows and drawing their bows silently in tandem. Just as the Reavers stilled from their previous bout of lewd laughter, two twin arrows pierced their skulls, killing them both in an instant. The orc suffered an extra convulsion of shock from the enchantment of Aerik’s bow, filling the cellar with the slight smell of burnt flesh. Aerik stood up from his crouched position.

“Damn, I like you,” he exclaimed, beaming at Teldryn, resting the hand that still held his bow on his hips. “Let’s see what else is going on in here…”

 

The room was lit by a small fire in a square, stone hearth at the center of the room. There was a bit of freshly cooked food on the table where the two Reavers had been sitting. Aerik picked up one of the bodies and began to drag it back over towards the ladder, dropping it in the darkened corner. He went back for the second one and dropped it unceremoniously on top of the other before walking back over to the table.

“I try not to sleep beside the dead, if I can help it,” he explained as if it were a common occurrence. If today’s activities were any example, then perhaps it was.

 

Aerik took off his gauntlets and grabbed a pinch of the seared slaughterfish that lay steaming on a wooden plate, popping it into his mouth.

“Mmm! That’s good. You should have some,” he said, licking his fingers. Teldryn just stared.

“Oh! I’m gonna go check that chest that I unlocked upstairs… I think I also saw a lute up there… This’ll just take a second, so if I’m not back in a reasonable amount of time, come make sure I’m not dead, yeah?” he prattled over his shoulder as he quickly ascended the ladder and pressed up out of the hatch. Teldryn blinked a few times, sighing heavily. The man sure did talk a lot. He seemed to have the attention span of a child… and, sometimes, the humor of one. The merc took a moment to take in his surroundings.

 

The room was fairly warm. Tattered draperies hung along the stone walls, fluttering slightly in breeze created by the hot air from the fire. An old book case, surprisingly still filled with books, sat on the back wall. A single bedroll lay off in the corner, as well as another large chest. Teldryn walked over to the chest and, sure enough, it was unlocked. There was a small stack of gold, a beautiful soul gem, and a couple of healing potions inside. Oscillating momentarily on how honest he was feeling today, Teldryn decided he was in a ‘good’ mood and pulled the small treasure out of the chest and put it on the table in plain view. The sound of the trap door opening and the twanging of lute strings reached the merc’s ears.

 

“There was some pretty good stuff in that chest,” Aerik called from around the corner. “And I was right, there was a lute! It’s really out of tune, though,” he rambled, rounding the corner and spotting the freshly discovered treasures on the table.

“Well, looks like you also went treasure hunting,” he commented with a chuckle. He set the lute down on one of the rickety chairs and added his discoveries to the pile: a small pouch of gold, an East Empire necklace, some kind of stamina potion, and a rusty mace.

“That mace I don’t really care about, but I figured I’d grab it anyways,” he explained, beginning to remove the straps of his armor. He paused when Teldryn didn’t motion to do the same.

“Do you not wish to be more comfortable?” he asked, shrugging off his studded chest piece. Teldryn crossed his arms, shifting his weight.

“Well, one of us has to be prepared in case more Reavers come back to this little hideout of theirs,” he scoffed. Aerik deflated slightly, but continued to take his armor off nonetheless. He wore a simple cotton frock as his under garment that had most definitely seen better days. It had several large holes and hung loosely around his slender frame, but didn’t obscure the toned muscles of the Nord’s body beneath it. Teldryn most certainly _was not_ taking notice of the man’s body.

“Fair point, but I’ve been itching to get out of that armor for a while. Wore it for a few days straight when I was on the boat from Windhelm.” Aerik sighed with relief as he dropped the studded armor to the floor. He stretched languidly, his hands nearly brushing the ceiling of the basement, his cotton tunic riding up to show a strip of pale flesh. Teldryn averted his eyes.

“Ah, look, reading material!” Aerik exclaimed excitedly, brushing past Teldryn to walk towards the bookcase. He plucked one of the worn books off the shelf, brushing a hand across the cover fondly.

“ _Killing Before You’re Killed_ … one of my favorites,” he grinned cheekily at his Dunmer companion. He thumbed through it absentmindedly as he strolled back over to the table by the fire. He sat the book down and instead picked up the lute, which he began to fiddle with in an attempt to tune it.

 

“You’re most certainly one of my chattier patrons,” Teldryn commented offhandedly, earning another grin from Aerik.

“Talking is one of my specialties.”

“As is the lute?”

“Oh yes. As well as several other instruments,” he nodded, giving the newly tuned lute a pleasant strum. “I graduated from the Bards College in Solitude at sixteen. One of their youngest graduates.” He began to strum a pleasant, yet somewhat melancholic tune.

“I should have known you were a bard,” the Dunmer laughed, finally moving to sit in the chair across the table from the Nord. Silence lapsed between them as Aerik continued to play. Teldryn wasn’t usually one for small talk, but he found he actually wanted to know more about the man across from him.

“Solitude, eh? It’s been ages since I’ve been to Skyrim. I used to live in Windhelm myself. I can only assume the Grey Quarter is still a slum… most likely even more so with the damn civil war your people have raging right now.”

“I try my best to stay out of politics,” Aerik sighed, mouth set into a grim line.

“So where do you stand? Does Skyrim ‘belong to the Nords’, as they say?” Teldryn pressed, hardly keeping the venom out of his voice.

“Considering I’m only half Nord, it would be rather hypocritical of me to say so, wouldn’t you think?”

“Yes, but you _look_ like a Nord. I’m sure you don’t have to deal with much in the way of racism with a… face like yours.”

“You mean because I’m _handsome_?” Aerik wiggled his eyebrows. Teldryn blinked behind his goggles, ignoring the comment. Aerik laughed to himself, playing a few more notes on the lute before setting it down.

“No, I can’t say I’ve ever suffered directly the bigotry of Skyrim’s overly-zealous Nordic nationalists.” The man leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet up onto the table. “I bloody hate it, though. I once beat a man senseless in Windhelm for threatening a Dunmer woman right in front of me. It was a true pleasure to put him in his place.” He flashed Teldryn a smile. “I have a soft spot for dark elves.”

“My hero,” Teldryn replied, flatly. “And what of this Altmer father of yours?”

“No idea… could be dead for all I know. Never met him,” Aerik shrugged, grabbing another pinch of slaughterfish before continuing. “Mum never spoke of him, really. I tried not to press the issue as I got older. It seemed like it brought up some rather unpleasant memories for her. Bastard could have raped her for all I know. But she did an excellent job raising me by herself. We had a good life in Solitude.” A fond, if not forlorn, look spread across Aerik’s face.

“Is she still with us?” Teldryn asked, already knowing the answer. Aerik shook his head solemnly, removing his feet from the table and letting the front legs of his chair drop back down onto the floor.

“She passed several years ago. In a way I’m thankful. She doesn’t have to live while dragons roam the earth again, the bloody annoying flying lizards.” That got Teldryn to laugh.

“You speak of them as if they’re more of a menace than terrible harbingers of death!”

“To me, they are a menace,” Aerik assured cryptically.

 

There was a moment of silence between them.

“Are you going to take off your helmet?” Aerik finally asked, cocking his head to the side. “Or do you prefer to go for the… masked and mysterious look?” He wiggled his fingers in the air dramatically. Teldryn sighed.

“I prefer to keep my anonymity for as long as I can with most of my employers, but since you’ve been so forthright with me, I suppose it would be rude.” Teldryn tugged the red scarf away from his mouth and pulled the chitin helmet up and off his head. He sat the helmet down heavily on the table in front of him before running both hand over his eyes and across the top of his head, ruffling the flattened streak of hair that ran along the centerline. Damn, it did feel good to take that helmet off. Aerik made a noise causing Teldryn to look up. The Nord had an unreadable expression on his face and quickly averted his gaze.

“Not… exactly what I was expecting you to look like,” he confessed. “Those are… um… lovely tattoos.” Teldryn smirked at the flush that had crept up the man’s neck and reddened his ears. He almost pushed the subject, asking exactly _what_ the Nord had expected, but let it drop.

“I’m from Blacklight, originally,” he said instead, changing the subject. “Hell of a city. I assume you’ve never been to Morowind beyond this fair colony?”

“Can’t say I have,” Aerik shrugged, the redness in his cheeks dying down, but he reached for the bottle of Nord mead on the table rather hastily. Teldryn watched his Adam’s apple bob as he took a swig before he continued speaking.

“I honestly haven’t been back to the old homeland in decades. Who knows what state it's in.”

“No family to visit?” Aerik wiped his mouth on the back of his arm, almost the exact same motion he’d made back in the Retching Netch.

“No, no… I try not to keep many personal ties in my life,” Teldryn waved off the thought, leaning back in his chair. “It’s a bad look for a mercenary.”

“I can understand that,” Aerik agreed, picking up the lute again. “I find myself in a similar situation. Most people I get too attached to end up dying in one way or another.” The cold tone to the Nord’s voice made Teldryn’s eyes narrow. He watched the man pick at the lute for a moment, wondering if he was going to elaborate.

“So I’m going to try not to get too attached to you,” Aerik added finally. “But, I hate to say, you’re already growing on me.”

“Well,” Teldryn huffed in amusement. “Lucky for you, then, I’m pretty damn tough to kill.”

 

Aerik’s genuine laughter seemed to lighten the room. He strummed in earnest on the lute, beginning to hum along a bit before singing out in a pleasant tone.

 

 _“Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin_  
Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!  
Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan  
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!”

 

Teldryn let out a short, mirthless laugh.

“Ah yes, The Dragonborn Comes. What a fantastical crock of shit that is,” he continued to chuckle, reaching for the bottle of mead that Aerik had previously taken a pull from.

“You don’t believe in the Dragonborn?” Aerik asked, tone neutral as he continued to play.

“Oh sure I believe in them… Hell, dragons are flying the skies again, so how could I not? But, forgive me, I just have a hard time wrapping my head around the whole idea. This… savior of Skyrim. Of Tamriel, at that. Seems a bit overblown.”

 

Aerik nodded, smiling glibly. He switched tunes, beginning to play The Age of Aggression, but did not sing along. After a few moments Aerik yawned widely.

“You can get some rest if you’d like. I’ll take first watch,” Teldryn offered. Aerik smiled kindly at him, standing up and stretching once more.

“Very kind of you, sir,” he replied his stretch turning into an elaborate bow. “You’re a true gentleman.”

“Hah! We’ll see how long that notion lasts,” Teldryn chortled. Aerik shot him an expert wink before picking up _Killing Before You’re Killed_ and taking it back over to the bookshelf. As the Nord shoved the book back into place he was met with an odd, hollow sound as the book his the back of the shelf. He paused, looked over at Teldryn, and then knocked the book against the back of the shelf again.

 

Definitely hollow.

 

Without a second thought, Aerik grabbed onto the side of the shelf and heaved, nearly falling backwards as the shelf swung easily open revealing a small, stony passageway. Teldryn immediately jumped from his seat, unsheathing his sword.

“Get behind me,” he barked, moving across the room swiftly and jumping in front of Aerik.

“See? What did I say… perfect gentleman,” Aerik goaded.

“You’re _paying_ me for this, you idiot,” Teldryn shot back, earning a lighthearted laugh from his patron. “Now at least grab a weapon.”

 

The two made their way down the narrow tunnel, Teldryn in the lead. He saw a brief teal flash of light from behind him, and he let out a breath. Aerik had cast an armor spell on himself. Seems like the young Nord wasn’t as dumb as he acted sometimes. The sound of whirring and the release of steam echoed off the cavernous walls. The tunnel opened up rather quickly into a small chamber that looked to be a part of an old Dwarven ruin.

“Be on guard, the Dwarves were tricky bastards,” Teldryn warned. They each circled around the room, weapons at the ready. It appeared to be completely empty, save the conspicuously large bloodstain on the table in the center of the room. There was a small journal lying next to some Dwarven scrap metal that Aerik quickly grabbed and began to read.

“Seems like whoever discovered this place was already on the verge of madness,” he explained, thumbing quickly through the book. “But I don’t think there’s anything… here.”

“Sera, look,” Teldryn called, ushering Aerik over to where he was standing. A large Dwarven chest was hidden just behind the center table. Aerik quickly grabbed for his key ring of lock picks, kneeling down and getting to work on the intricate Dwarven machinery. Teldryn watched him with a reserved fascination. The lock came undone easily beneath his expert touch.

“And how is it you came to be so very good at picking locks?” Teldryn asked dryly. Aerik smiled, blowing a long, blond strand of hair out of his eyes.

“Well… it wasn’t from being a good boy,” he replied cheekily. The chest slid open, the contents inside leaving both men momentarily speechless.

 

“Teldryn?”

“Yes, Sera?”

“If we stick together, and things continue to progress at this rate, I think we’ll both end up _very_ rich.”  

“I have to agree.”

 

 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeehaw! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Notes on Aerik's mixed heritage: Teldryn will, more often than not, continue to refer to him as a Nord, mostly because that's just what he looks like and it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks.  
> The way race-mixing goes in TES universe is that offspring always take the race of their mother, but sometimes they will have aspects of their fathers genetics; in Aerik's case, it's his height, hair, and eye color. 
> 
> I value downtime in this story - this will become even more apparent the further along we go.


	3. Amongst the Draugr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another installment! Rife with action, sarcasm, Skaals with no humor, dramatic revelations, and unspeakable horrors! Not to mention slowly-building sexual tension... Adventure awaits!

_“Let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter.”_  
**Homer,** **The Illiad**

\---

 

The two men set off early the next morning, packs heavier than before with gold, potions, gems, and some extra rations stolen from the Reavers. Teldryn fell into step behind Aerik, who seemed to be heading for the steep mountains.

“Where exactly are we going?”

“I’m not exactly sure!” Aerik responded in sing-song, his bubbling laughter only serving to annoy Teldryn in the early hours of the day.

“You hired me… to just escort your happy ass on some… goose chase to nowhere?”

“Oh, no, it’s a goose chase to somewhere… I’m just not sure where… yet,” came the enigmatic response. The merc sighed heavily, swinging his arms about to loosen up his shoulders.

 

The hike up the mountain soon turned snowy the further they got in elevation. Teldryn shuddered at the cold, conjuring a small flame in the palm of his left hand – half defensively, half to keep him warm. It wasn’t too much further before they came across their first dragon skeleton.

“By Azura…” Teldryn muttered, slowing to a halt in front of the massive carcass. It was ancient, for sure, the bones having nearly petrified into something more solid than ebony. He tapped the edge of his sword against a rib experimentally.

“There are more up ahead,” Aerik said, grimly. And so there were. The hillside was littered with ancient dragon skeletons. Just beyond them, the two men saw what appeared to be… people - dozens of people tirelessly working on the construction of some kind of building. A temple? Aerik plodded up to the nearest person and tapped them politely on the shoulder.

“Hello, my dear… can you tell me what exactly it is you and your friends are working on here?”

 

The woman didn’t exactly ignore Aerik, but instead continued to work steadily while muttering something about ‘cleansing’ and ‘the great coming’. It left a bad taste in Teldryn’s mouth. He walked up and put a firm hand on the Nord’s shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get to the top.”

 

They continued their hike up towards the looming temple. The atmosphere seemed to condense the closer they got to the summit, as if the anticipation had a physical manifestation. Teldryn glanced at Aerik’s profile, trying to gage the Nord’s reaction, but the man remained stoic, once again proving Teldryn’s inability to classify just exactly what type of person he was dealing with.

 

A voice cut through the enthralled mumblings of the workers around them – a woman’s voice, frantic and desperate.

“You must fight against what is controlling you! We must leave this place!”

Aerik shot a glance at Teldryn, who simply nodded in silent agreement. They both took off in a sprint, running up the wooden ramp that lead to the inner circle of the temple. A young woman, blond and heavily armored, was desperately trying to get the attention of one of the workers.

“Ysra, can you hear me? You must leave this place!"

“Excuse me!” Aerik called from the tops of the steps, waving at the stern woman. She eyed the two approaching figure, one hand immediately on the hilt of her sword.  
"That’s close enough. What brings you to this place. Why are you here?" Aerik put his hands up in acquiescence.

“Take it easy, love, we’re not here to hurt you. My name is Aerik and this is my companion.” He left Teldryn’s name unsaid, which pleased the Dunmer more than he liked to admit. “What is this place? Who are these people?”

 

The woman sighed, relaxing her posture only slightly.

“These are my people. The Skaal. Something has taken control of them… most of the people of Solstheim, too. My father Storn, our shaman, says Miraak has returned to Solstheim, but that is impossible."

 

Teldryn’s ears perked at the mention of that name again.

“Miraak,” Aerik repeated, striding over to her more quickly. “Can you tell me who that is?” Across the way, movement caught Teldryn’s attention. Two masked figured moved quickly towards the conversing pair. Teldryn saw the flair of an armor spell and he quickly leapt into action.

“Sera! To your left!” he called, swirling purple energy gathering in his left hand as he called forth a flame atronach from the reaches of Oblivion. He tumbled in front of his patron, letting loose a massive fireball from his right hand. He felt Aerik’s own energy swelling behind him, the sharp electrical currents of his shock spells crackling to life in the man’s palms. The masked attackers let loose their own magic, coating the group in bone-chilling frost. The spell cut off shortly as Aerik assaulted their attacker with a punishing amount of chain lightening. With the masked mage being completely drained of their magicka, the blond woman saw the opportunity to lunge forward, her hulking ancient Nordic great sword striking true and dealing a fatal blow to the assailant. The second attacker was doing their best to fend off the atronach, which threw blow after blow of relentless fireballs. Teldryn ducked and rolled up next to the figure, launching upwards to completely run him through with his Elven blade.

 

Letting the figure fall to the ground, Teldryn caught Aerik’s eye for a brief moment, and the intensity in the man’s eyes sent a minute shiver up his spine.

“Those guys are the reason I’m here,” Aerik said finally, half addressing Teldryn, half addressing the woman. “They found me in Skyrim… threatened my life. Tried to kill me in the name of… Miraak. Whoever the hell he is.”

“Why would Miraak’s cultists want you dead?” the woman asked. Aerik looked like he knew the answer, but instead replied with a far-too-innocent shrug.

“Well, I would appreciate your help. I am Frea of the Skaal. Miraak has enslaved my people against their will. His curse has made them forget themselves, becoming slaves to the construction of his temple, and work on these horrible… creations that corrupt the Stones of the All-Maker, the very land itself.”

“Where do you suggest we start?” Aerik asked, head swiveling around to look at the massive temple.

“We need to make it down into the inner temple,” Frea urged, looking between the two men. “There are sure to be more cultists, and possibly many draugr. If you agree to help me in this, do not make this decision without knowing the price.”

“Oh,” Aerik smiled, nearly sinisterly. “I am well aware of the price.”

 

The three began their descent into the massive temple, rounding the curved ramp that lead down to a pair of large iron doors. Once inside, the oppressive feeling doubled and Teldryn felt a curling tendril of nausea begin to creep through his stomach. He quickly suppressed the feeling and tried his best to take in his surroundings, looking for anything he could possibly use to their advantage. They were in what appeared to be a Nordic style tunnel that looked to be thousands of years old.

“Check the nearby chambers for anything useful,” Frea ordered redundantly in a hushed tone. Teldryn rolled his eyes beneath his mask, but scouted the area diligently nonetheless, stealthily moving through ancient rooms with stonework tables and chairs. Skeletons littered the floor, which Teldryn stepped quietly around. Aerik also seemed to be hyper focused, which was a surprising contrast to his usual carefree demeanor. Whatever this place was, it had the Nord’s hackles up, and Teldryn couldn't say he blamed him.

 

Fresh fires burned in each of the rooms, indicating a living presence had been there recently. They continued on in silence, skimming what loot they could, dispatching various draugr that attacked them, as well as two more of the odd, masked cultists. They finally reached a large chamber with several iron cages hanging from the ceiling.

"I do not wish to imagine the kinds of things that happened in this chamber. Who were these poor souls trapped in these cages? What tortures did they suffer at Miraak's hands? Was it in service to the dragons, or for his own purposes?" Frea asked to no one in particular.

“Service of the dragons?” Aerik asked incredulously.

“Yes, Miraak was a great dragon priest during the time when dragons ruled over our lands. He turned on his dragon masters, however, and used his incredibly powerful Thu’um to bend them to his will. He is said to be the very first Dragonborn,” Frea explained as they quietly moved through the chamber. Teldryn looked up at the long dead caged figures, that same nausea threatening to rear its head once again. _Get a hold of yourselfI,_ he scolded internally. _It’s not like you’ve never seen a burnt corpse before_. While it was true that he was no stranger to death, the miasma of this place had him breaking into a cold sweat. Something was so, terribly wrong down here.

 

“Looks like there’s a balcony over there, but I can’t tell if we need to get up there or not…” Aerik mused. The three looked around to no avail – it appeared the only way forward was down.

“I suggest we proceed with caution,” Teldryn offered sarcastically, finally earning himself a smirk from Aerik. The Dunmer let out a held breath, relieved to see his patron smile again.

 

They proceeded down the stairs, each step intentional and silent. Aerik raised a hand quickly to motion for the two behind him to stop. There was soft shuffling at the bottom of the stairs: the sound of approaching footsteps and swishing robes. Aerik quickly produced an arrow from his quiver, nocked it, and waited patiently for the first cultist’s head to rear itself before letting his arrow loose. The surprise of the attack knocked the cultist flat, their companion quickly drawing their own blade and whirling on the group. Frea let out a war cry and leapt from the upper stairs directly on top of the cultist, knocking them to the ground. Aerik and Teldryn exchanged glances as they let the woman nearly hack the person to pieces. After she was done, Aerik came up behind her, patting her shoulder gently.

“That’s it, love, let all that aggression out,” he said with a sideways smile. She jerked her shoulder out from beneath his grasp.

“Let us keep moving,” she ordered, stomping off ahead of them.

 

“I can’t tell if I like her or not,” Teldryn confessed, moving to stand beside the Nord.

“I can feel her pain,” Aerik replied sadly. “It’s my way to make light of the situation, but I don’t think she has much of a sense of humor.” This earned a sharp laugh from Teldryn.

“Bit of an understatement, sera.”

 

Moving quickly through crumbling burial chambers, the team expertly took out what felt like a countless barrage of draugr. The place was armed to the teeth with traps around every corner.

“Well, this Miraak fellow certainly doesn’t seem like the welcoming type,” Teldryn commented, dodging yet another pelting of poison darts. They finally made it to a large, long chamber with a pair of intimidating wooden doors at the very end.

“I think we’re getting closer,” Aerik encouraged, earning a nod from Frea.

“I can feel it, also,” she agreed, rolling her shoulders back to loosen them up. She and Aerik pushed the doors open together, leading them into the temple’s inner sanctum.

 

The feeling of gloom became ever stronger. Teldryn suppressed a full body shiver as a feeling of complete and utter dread washed across his body.

“The air is foul,” Frea whispered hoarsely. Aerik looked to Teldryn for reassurance, earning an encouraging nod from the merc. It looked like they were to go even further down… The earth felt heavy above them and Teldryn, having been in his fair share of Nordic crypts and mines in his day, couldn’t help but truly _feel_ the oppressive weight of the sheer depth of the temple.

 

Down, down, down they went, until they finally stumbled into a room that seemed to be a dead end. Teldryn gawked up at the massive dragon skeleton that hung suspended from the ceiling by heavy chains. He looked to Aerik to see the man’s reaction, but the Nord seemed to be distracted by an ancient dragon wall off to the left.

“Sera?” he called out nervously as the Nord strode like a man possessed over to the wall, staring intently at the writings. Teldryn was about to call out again, when the sound of a cracking sarcophagus had him wheeling around. One, two, three… five draugr had emerged from the sarcophagi that lined the walls. Frea let out a startled shout breaking Aerik from the odd spell the wall seemed to have over him. A final sarcophagus broke from beneath the dragon skeleton, and an imposing, hulking draugr stepped out wearing a sharp, pointed helmet, eyes burning with a blue flame of pure hatred.

 

It felt like all the air was being sucked out of the room as the draugr drew a breath, unleashing a Thu’um that caused Teldryn and Frea to stagger backwards. A sharp, piercing pain burst forth from Teldryn’s right shoulder, ripping an angry cry from his throat. It was quickly followed by a second, twin pain directly below the first. He looked down to see two arrows lodged expertly between the crevices of his chitin armor. The draugr were quickly rushing the felled Dunmer and the stunned Skaal woman at his side. Aerik swore loudly, lunging forward from the wall, sword and dagger in hand.

 

The room seemed to vibrate with power, similar to the feeling before the large draugr released his Thu’um. This time, however… it was _different_. Teldryn watched, eyes wide behind his mask, as Aerik inhaled deeply, the air crackling with energy.

“FUS… RO DAH!” came the deafening cry from the man, sending the group of draugr flying back with a crushing force into the opposite wall, over half of them crumpling into lifeless heaps. Aerik leapt across the room, landing a foot square in the center of the largest draugr’s chest. The creature thrashed beneath the man’s weight, glaring up at him with venomous eyes.

“ _Dir Volaan… fen kos vodahim,_ ” it spat through raspy, dry vocal chords. Erik smiled coldly.

“ _Zu’u faal laat Dovahkiin. Faal Saviik. Hin faas Vodahim…_ ” he answered in kind, his voice rumbling with restrained power. Without a second glance, Aerik hoisted his Elven sword above his head and drove it solidly through opening of the draugr’s helmet. Frea quickly leapt to her feet and easily dispatched the one remaining draugr, who was badly hurt from the blast of the Thu’um.

 

Aerik sheathed his sword and dagger before turning to look at Teldryn, a sheepish look on his face. There was a pregnant pause that hung between the three companions.

“You’re… you’re the Dragonborn!” Frea finally exclaimed, sheathing her own sword and rushing over to where Aerik stood. He brushed past her in favor of kneeling by Teldryn’s side.

“I told you people get hurt around me,” he mumbled, pressing a hand gently around the two arrows that protruded from the Dunmer’s shoulder.

“Oh this?” Teldryn scoffed. “I’ve had worse,” he laughed weakly, flinching as pain flared in his shoulder. He truly had, though.

“There is a passageway through the center crypt,” Frea pointed out. “I’ll scout up ahead. Let us get your friend to safety so we can dress his wounds.”

 

The Skaal woman nimbly leapt through the open sarcophagus and into the adjoining chamber.

“Can you stand?” Aerik asked Teldryn, putting a gentle arm around his shoulder.

“Of course I can,” the dark elf replied, stubbornly shrugging off Aerik’s hands. He got to his feet, stumbling only slightly. The pain was beginning to become excruciating, but nothing he couldn’t bear.

“We just need to get the arrows out and I can heal myself from there,” Teldryn explained, gingerly touching one of the ancient Nordic arrows that was lodged between the plates of his armor.

“Through here!” Frea called. “There is a large room with many tables!”

 

The two men made their way towards the Skaal woman’s voice, passing through a room with a large table and two unmoving draugr to wind their way into a much larger room with multiple long tables and benches.

“Sit down over here,” Aerik suggested, gently leading Teldryn to a long bench.

“By the Nine, boy, I won’t _break_ ,” he scolded, sitting down nonetheless. Aerik smiled at him, once again wearing a sympathetic look.

“This is going to hurt,” Aerik warned, looking up into the dark elf’s obscured eyes. “I can heal you after they’re out. I want you to save your energy.”

“Just get it over with,” Teldryn clipped, unused to being fussed over.

 

He couldn’t muffle his cry of pain as Aerik firmly ripped the arrows from his shoulder. A bit of his dark blood splashed across the Nord’s armor dramatically. As quickly as he had dropped the arrows, a golden light sprang out from the man’s palms as he pressed them gently to Teldryn’s shoulder. They lapsed into a moment of silence before Teldryn cleared his throat.

“So… were you going to _tell_ me you were the Dragonborn, or were you content to let me continue to make a fool out of myself?”

“Well,” Aerik laughed, his attention still on Teldryn’s wounds. “I assumed you’d figure it out one way or another. It’s not exactly a title I like to throw around. I only just discovered my little… _gifts_ at the beginning of First Seed this year. But that’s an incredibly long story.”  

“I’m sure you’ll find time to tell it to me,” Teldryn goaded. “You’re chatty enough as it is.”

 

Distracted by their small talk, Teldryn barely noticed that Aerik had finished healing his shoulder, though his hands remained in place. He remained crouched by the elf’s side, giving him one of those enigmatic little looks he was so prone to wear. Frea cleared her throat from across the room and Aerik relinquished his grip quickly, standing up and self-consciously brushing off his pants.

“Right, let’s keep moving,” he said needlessly. Teldryn laughed quietly to himself, giving his newly healed shoulder a swing and a roll to test it out.

“Lead on!”

 

* * *

 

 

The final wave of draugr was slain and the three companions stood breathlessly at the top of a long, wide stepped chamber, staring up at an eldritch abomination of a statue. It’s many carved eyes seemed to actually follow their movements as they explored the chamber. Teldryn went straight for the chest lying behind the horizontal draugr crypt, while Aerik busied himself inspecting the statue.

“Sera, there are some enchanted weapons in here. Would you like to see?” Teldryn called out, only to be greeted by the sound of rock grinding against itself. He peeked around the statue to see that the Nord had yanked on some pull-chain, opening up a hidden passage.

“Uhg,” Teldryn sighed in distaste, earning a shrug from Aerik before he disappeared down the passage. Teldryn grabbed the gold from the chest and a particularly nasty looking orcish dagger before following his patron.

 

The tunnel was roughly carved, not at all like the intricately vaulted Nordic tunnels they had previously traversed. Frea brought up the rear, making some cryptic comments about nightmares, but Teldryn tuned her out, keeping his eyes trained on the man a few paces in front of him. The tunnel finally opened up into a large, cavernous room. The air was hot and thick, the walls of the room crested upwards into a pointed, organic dome, giving Teldryn the feeling of being trapped inside some kind of poisonous plant. In the center, on a warped, eldritch pedestal, lay a large, black book. Aerik approached it cautiously.

“Sera,” Teldryn warned, voice wavering slightly. “Do not touch that.” Aerik looked back at him apologetically. He reached out and picked the book up off the pedestal, hefting its weight into one hand.

“Sera!” Teldryn yelled, angry now. “Do not… read that book!” he nearly pleaded.

“I’m sorry…” Aerik sighed, brushing his hand across the cover, his expression resigned. “I think I have to.”

“No, _Aerik_!” Teldryn called, lunging forward, but only moments too late. The Nord opened the book and was immediately engulfed by thick, black tentacles, circling around his neck and sliding down his waist. The tentacles pulsed around the man, wrapping around each of his limbs, as the book began to glow an eerie green, ancient lettering swirling town the tendrils and surrounding Aerik’s body. He was lifted off the ground, hovering in mid air, eyes wide and locked onto the pages of the wretched tome.

“NO!” Teldryn nearly screamed, reached to grab the Nord by his arm, but he found his hands moved right through him, as if he were a specter. Teldryn stumbled backwards, bumping into Frea who had emerged from the mouth of the tunnel.

“What has he done?” she whispered in horror. Teldryn had no answer. He simply looked on helplessly at the floating man in front of him.

“We have to guard his body until… whatever it is relinquishes control over him,” Teldryn ordered, unsheathing his sword. Frea did the same.

“And what if he is trapped… forever held like this?”

“Then we wait _as long as we can_ ,” Teldryn spat, shooting the woman an annoyed glare that he knew she couldn’t see.

 

It felt like hours passed, though it had to have only been minutes. Teldryn watched his patron’s hovering form with an intense anxiety that he hadn’t felt in many years. This… was the Dragonborn. He had somehow gotten himself mixed up with the blasted _Dragonborn_. It was just his luck, of course. For the first time in a long time, Teldryn _did_ feel like he was getting to old for this shit.

 

Without warning, the tentacles sucked themselves back up into the book and Aerik dropped like a rock.

“Sera!” Teldryn called, dropping his sword and jumping to try to catch the man before he hit the floor too hard. He fell against Teldryn’s tough, chintin armor, head lolling back and forth. Aerik’s eyes blinked rapidly as he tried to sit up.

“What… I’m back…” he whispered hoarsely.

“You never went anywhere,” Frea said, taking a cautious step towards the pair. “You just hovered there… but it was as if you weren’t really here. I could see you, but I could also see through you! What did you see?”

 

Aerik shook his head, brushing the long strands of hair that had come loose from his braid out of his face. Teldryn loosened his grip around the man, allowing him to sit up.

“Miraak… I saw him,” he stuttered.

“Where? Can we reaching him? Can we kill him?” Frea pressed, causing Teldryn to throw her a nasty look. Aerik shook his head, attempting to sit up more fully.

“No… he’s… trapped in some other realm. Somewhere in Oblivion, maybe? He’s trying to escape… he wants to rule over Tamriel… once more, he said,” Aerik rambled. Teldryn noticed the man’s hands were shaking. “That place… where that book took me. It was… unspeakable. It smelled of rot and decay... I felt so…” He shuddered violently.

“Shh now, let’s get out of here...” Teldryn soothed. “You, Skaal woman,” he barked at Frea. “Where can we take him where he can recover?” The woman shifted, sheathing her sword.

“…My village. You will both be safe there. My father needs to hear of this, regardless. Help him up and I will take you there. Let us take this book to show as well.”

 

“Steady as we go, sera.” Teldryn helped heave Aerik to his feet, keeping an arm around his shoulder as they walked towards a secondary tunnel that lead out of the chamber. It wasn’t long before they were back out into the wild elements of Solstheim, the cold wind cutting through their armor and chilling them to the bone.

“This way,” Frea called over the wind. “There isn’t too far to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Aerik, my sweet summer child. ;_; I like to imagine that being sucked into one of those books is not only horrifying, but also terribly disorienting and draining. Luckily Teldryn has some latent paternal instincts??? Help that boi. 
> 
> Also, the Dovahzul translations:  
> Dir Volaan… fen kos vodahim - "Die intruder... you will be forgotten."  
> Zu’u faal laat Dovahkiin. Faal Saviik. Hin faas Vodahim… - "I am the Dragonborn. The savior. You are the forgotten." (Because Aerik is a dramatic little shit).
> 
> Thanks for everyone who has left kudos and comments thus far! Y'all are the real MVPs.


	4. Children of the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, my sweets. We're buzzing right along with this crazy little story of mine.  
> Buckle up for the next installments of The Adventures of Sexual Innuendo Man and Grumpy the Grey Elf.

_“Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier;_  
_I have seen worse sights than this.”_  
_**Homer, The Illiad**_

 

\---

 

It was close to dusk as they approached the Skaal village and Teldryn realized that they must have been in the depths of that temple for longer than he thought.

“You see down there?” Frea gestured towards one of the large standing stones down the hill. “Those are my people. They are working against their will day and night at the behest of Miraak,” she explained, expression sorrowful.

“We will free them,” Aerik assured from Teldryn’s side, still weak from his foray with the Black Book. The Dunmer scoffed to himself – ever valiant, the Dragonborn. Just like the damn stories; putting his life on the line to save people he barely knows, who would probably discriminate against him without a second thought if they knew of his mixed heritage. The elf kept his comments to himself as the trudged along down the hill, the flickering lights of a small village lighting their path through the wind and snow.

 

The village was nearly empty, having most of its inhabitants under Miraak’s mind control at the Wind Stone. A small circle of people sat at the very center, mostly appearing to be elders. A swirling beam of energy radiated upwards from where they all sat, and from what Teldryn could tell, it seemed to be creating some kind of psychic barrier around the village. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Perhaps they would be safe here for the night.

"Father!” Frea called, running forward towards the circle. “I have returned! There is yet hope!"

 

An old, weathered man wearing a thick fur-lined coat and massive hood looked up from where he sat contributing to the pillar of light. His face was weathered and wise, even for a Nord.  
"Frea! What news do you bring? Is there a way to free our people?" he began to rise from the ground, slowly and deliberately. The others sitting at the circle remained focused and unwavering.  
"No,” Frea confessed sadly, “but I have brought someone who has seen things... He has confirmed that Miraak is indeed behind the suffering of our people." The man sighed, looking off into the distance.  
"I feared that it would be so."  
"But how is that possible?” Frea demanded, clearly not at all the answer she was expecting from her father.  
"I fear there is too much we do not yet know.” He turned to address Aerik and Teldryn. “Which of you were the one to make the discovery of Miraak’s treacheries?” Teldryn felt Aerik shift from his side, releasing his steadying grip around the elf’s shoulders, and walked forward.

“It was I. My name is Aerik Havardr.” He stepped forward and extended a hand with what Teldryn knew was feigned bravado. “I… am the last Dragonborn,” he seemed to add as an afterthought, but the old man’s eyes widened, glistening wetly.

“The Dragonborn…” he breathed, taking Aerik’s extended hand into both of his own gloved ones. “My name is Storn Craig-Strider. Please, come to my house. Let us get out of this cold.”

 

The shaman’s hut was small, but incredibly warm. A large, stone pit fire burned lowly in the center of the room, radiating warmth and light. Teldryn sighed gratefully after the door was closed behind them, earning a smirk from his patron.

“Not a fan of the cold, old man?” he asked cheekily.

“I’ll take ash and molten lava over snow any day,” Teldryn huffed, ignoring the comment on his age. He was onto Aerik’s little game, now, and wouldn’t give the man the satisfaction of seeing him ruffled.

“Please, sit,” Storn offered, gesturing to the modest wooden table. Aerik took a seat at the far end, while Teldryn moved to stand in the corner near the door.

“Who is your companion?” Storn asked the Dragonborn, eyeing Teldryn suspiciously.

“He is my bodyguard. I trust him implicitly, though, so anything we speak of here will not find its way into the wrong hands,” Aerik assured, and Teldryn couldn’t help but feel a little honored at how quickly he’d managed to gain the man’s trust. They’d only known each other for the better half of three days, though he did feel unusually comfortable around Aerik. Their playful jabs and interactions would look to any outside as if they had been friends for years. Teldryn let himself lean a little bit into the wall, taking a more casual stance.

 

“Very well,” Storn said, moving to join Aerik at the table. Frea sat in the chair closest to where Teldryn stood.

“We began by investigating the temple,” Aerik began. “In Skyrim I was attacked by an odd group of cultists who claimed that I was a false Dragonborn and needed to be slain to prepare for the coming of the First Dragonborn, Miraak. It seems they’ve put in quite a deal of work here on Solstheim, as the temple was armed to the teeth with traps and draugr. At the end, though, we found this…” Aerik reached into his pack and pulled out the heavy tomb that had been wrapped in some spare linen. Storn’s face grew dark as the Nord carefully unwrapped the book to reveal the slick, dark green cover that bore the mark of a tentacled monster.

“One of the Black Books…” Storn half-whispered, rubbing a wrinkled hand across his lower jaw and down his beard. “You… read this?”

“I felt I had no choice…”

“Hmm…” Storn nodded solemnly. “I am thankful that you still have your mind in tact. You must be strong indeed. These books can drive even the most strong-willed man mad. And what did you see?”

 

Aerik took a breath, glancing over at Teldryn, who gave him an encouraging nod.

“I was… transported to this other realm. It was a horrid, desolate place, like an immense library, but everything seemed to be living and writhing. Everything felt wrong,” Aerik paused to rub at his temples.

“I felt paralyzed, and I think I was… But in front of me stood two… creatures the likes of which I’ve never seen before. They were grotesque, neither of the land nor of the sea, but something terrible and unknowable in between. And then, from the sky, I saw…” he paused, as if trying to find the right words. Teldryn realized he had begun to lean forward slightly, enraptured by the man’s storytelling. He straightened up, feeling sheepish. _Damn bards_.

“I saw a dragon, but… it was nothing like the ones I've fought in Skyrim. It had the head and neck of an eel, but the face of a slaughterfish. And atop the dragon… _riding_ the dragon, was Miraak.”

 

Frea gasped dramatically and Teldryn couldn’t help but smile at how very enthralled the two Skaal were. The boy was certainly talented in the art of speechcraft.

“He dismounted and spoke to me… taunted me for how few dragons I’ve slain… for how I’ve failed to defeat Alduin…” Teldryn saw Aerik’s demeanor shift, his head dropping in shame, no longer looking to those around him.

“Then he sent me back, telling those… creatures to do so. He said I could wait for his return with the rest of Tamriel. The pain of their spells were so real, so _excruciating_ , but I came through the other side unharmed.” He finally looked back up at Storn, who wore an expression of grave concern. “Please, tell me: who is Miraak? Who am I up against here?”

 

Storn sighed, long and heavy, placing his hands flat on the table in front of him.

"Much of what is known about Miraak has been lost through the ages. He was Dragonborn, yet he served the dragons. A priest in their order, highly esteemed and very powerful. Then he turned against them, becoming something they feared. The cult of Dragon Priests then turned against him, and he was defeated… Or so we thought. It seems that this realm in which Miraak now resides has allowed him to access power that gives him ultimate control over man, beast, _and_ dragon.”

 

Teldryn saw Aerik’s eyes light up at that.

“If Miraak has this knowledge, then I should be able to obtain it as well. I can defeat him and also use what I learn to bring down Alduin,” he snapped his fingers. “Hit two targets with one arrow.”

“A word of caution, young Dragonborn,” Storn interjected, deflating Aerik’s momentary excitement.

“Miraak paid a great price for the knowledge he gained. Going into this, you must ask yourself what you might be willing to sacrifice in return.”

 

Aerik’s face paled significantly, his eyes becoming glassy and distant. Teldryn shifted his weight, having to physically stop himself from walking over to the man. It was becoming clear that this happy-go-lucky half-Nord was hiding a dark past behind that charming smile and sharp wit.

“Would it be too much to ask for some lodgings for the evening?” Teldryn spoke up, drawing the two Skaal’s eyes to him and away from the worried Nord. Storn seemed to ruminate for a moment.

“Hmm… yes, there is a bed in the Great Hall that you could use. Only one, though.”

“That’s sufficient. I don’t need a bed,” Teldryn replied in a clipped tone, striding across the room to lay a hand on Aerik’s shoulder.

“Come, ser. You need your rest,” he suggested lowly. Aerik laughed weakly, looking up into the goggles that hid the Dunmer’s eyes.

“When I hired you I didn’t know you’d be such a mother hen,” he chuckled, beginning to rise from his seat. Teldryn accepted to comment, so long as it got the Nord laughing a little bit.

   

“After you have rested for the night, we shall reconvene in the morning. There is a dragon wall that should contain one of the words of power you’ll need. I shall give you details on the morrow. Frea, my child, will you lead these men to the Great Hall and show them where they will be staying?”

“Of course, father,” Frea agreed amicably, rising from her seat as well.

 

 

\-----

 

The Great Hall was also a warm and inviting contrast to the harsh snow outside, which seemed to have doubled in its intensity in the short bit they had spent in the shaman’s hut. Another large stone pit held a captivating fire as well as four large sconces that burned hot and low around the edges of the room. There was a small balcony that circled the back half of the building.

“Up this way,” Frea beckoned, leading the two men up a ladder to the far right. The upper story of the room was even warmer and Teldryn let out a pleased hum. A large bed covered in furs sat in the center of the far wall, surrounded by communal goods and resources.

“Please, make yourselves at home. I apologize that we only have one bed to offer…”  
“Not to worry,” Aerik waved her apologies off. “This is incredibly kind of you and your father. So thank you for your hospitality.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” Frea responded softly. “You have brought hope back into my heart.”  
“Ah, yeah, well…” Aerik looked suddenly awkward, swinging his hands back and forth at his side. “It’s what I do… Dragonborn, and all that. I’ve got a prophecy to fulfill,” he joked, winking amicably. Frea blushed ever so slightly and Teldryn barely hid the snicker that escaped from between his teeth. Aerik shot him a dirty look.

“Well, I shall see you in the morning, Dragonborn. As well as you,” she said, nodding to Teldryn.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” he offered politely as the Skaal woman turned and walked away, descending the ladder and exiting the Great Hall quietly.

 

“You…” Teldryn turned to face Aerik after the massive door had closed, pulling his helmet off his head and loosening his face scarf. “…are quite used to charming the pants off people, aren’t you?” Aerik smiled sheepishly, beginning to unbuckle his own armor.

“Some… old habits die hard,” he confessed, pulling the studded armor over his head. “I wasn’t trying to lead her on or anything like that.”

“Well, I have to say, if you keep it up you may be breaking as many hearts as dragons you slay,” Teldryn laughed, sliding off his thick chitin bracers and beginning to unfasten his heavy breastplate. Aerik’s gaze darted to the Dunmer’s hands before looking across the room.

“Well, she’s a lovely woman, and a fierce warrior, but… not my type,” he shrugged casually, laying his armor neatly over one of the chairs adjacent to the bed.

“I know, I know…” Teldryn laughed dryly. “You have a _soft spot_ for dark elves.” He half regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, because the fiery look Aerik gave him had him immediately realizing that he may or may not have just opened a door that would not easily be shut. His stomach twisted nervously.

“You have a good memory,” Aerik replied in a low, slightly dangerous voice. Teldryn refused to break eye contact, standing his ground. Aerik was the first one to move, shifting to walk towards one of the ladders that lead to the lower level. His signature enigmatic smile remained on his face.

“I’m going to go see if I can fetch some water. Maybe get some snowmelt. I’d love to be able to clean myself, if only a little bit. Would you be interested? I see you’re actually removing your armor tonight…”

“Yes, well,” Teldryn cleared his throat, the thick chitin plating slid from around his waist leaving him feeling vulnerable. “I wouldn’t mind freshening up.”

 

As Aerik descended the ladder Teldryn cursed himself mentally, hastily removing the rest of his armor until he was down to just his thin, red linen under shirt and thick brown pants. _What in the bloody name of Sheogorath do you think your doing, old man?_ He scrubbed furiously at his eyes, smoothing down his thin, bristly beard as he took a moment to thoroughly chastise himself. _Rule number one, always: do not show emotional interest in any patron. ANY patron. This includes flirting, you bloody idiot! Who cares if he’s a muscular... nubile…_ Teldryn shook his head viciously, stopping that line of thought in its tracks.     

“Focus, damn you,” he muttered out loud. He laid his armor out in a way that would be easily accessible if he needed to throw any of it on in a hurry. There was the sound of movement downstairs prompting Teldryn to walk over to the balcony. Aerik had found an old iron kettle that he had packed with snow and was currently situating it on the edge of the stone fire pit. In one fluid motion he quickly removed the thin undershirt he had been wearing beneath his armor, revealing a lean, golden toned torso that was… mottled with scars. Teldryn couldn’t help but stare. The man set the shirt down off to the side and picked up a strip of cloth, pausing to watch the snow begin to melt within the kettle. His eyes flickered upwards to look at Teldryn, who still stood at the balcony. The dark elf’s posture stiffened and he resolutely decided that if Aerik was going to play this little game, then he’d play his hand back.

 

Wordlessly, Teldryn stomped down the ladder to join Aerik by the fire.

“I honestly wouldn’t mind giving this shirt a wash,” he mused aloud, tugging lightly at his own linen undershirt. “If there’s enough water.”

“I can always fetch more,” Aerik offered with a sly smile, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor beside the fire. Teldryn, with as little self-consciousness as he could muster, slid his own shirt over his head and held it out in front of himself to give it a once over. He heard Aerik inhale sharply.

“Those tattoos…” he commented softly. “They seem… very official.” Teldryn glanced at the winding, jagged pattern that spiraled down one of his arms.

“They are,” he stated, moving closer to the fire. “I received them as part of my initiation into the Morag Tong.” Aerik’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

“You’re in the Morag Tong!?”

“ _Was_ ,” Teldryn corrected, dropping his shirt on top of Aerik’s before joining him on the floor to stretch. “I stopped working with them years ago. Well, more so they _disolved_ after the eruption of the Red Mountain, so I really had no choice. Not to mention the explosion effectively destroyed my home and everything I loved, so I had no reason to stay in Morrowind either,” he added, far too casually. 

“Wow, you _are_ old,” Aerik teased lightheartedly, gracefully ignoring the last comment. Teldryn glared at him, causing the Nord to put his hands up. “By Nord standards, that’s all. You don’t look a day over one hundred, I swear.” This earned him a forceful, but amicable punch to the arm.

“Don’t try my patience, boy,” Teldryn scolded, smiling despite himself.

“Did you have a family?” Aerik asked, demeanor shifting to something a bit more reverent.

“Of course I did,” Teldryn clipped, avoiding eye contact. “Wife, kid… living the dream. After they died I…” He stopped himself, feeling his throat tighten. “Well I moved to Windhelm as part of the refugee wave, then to Solstheim, and you know the rest,” he finished quickly, leaning forward over his legs to touch his toes.

“What are you doing?” Aerik asked, and Teldryn was grateful for the subject change.

“I’m making sure I stay limber. Preventing injury and all that,” the Dunmer explained patronizingly, tilting his head to look at Aerik out of the side of his eye. “It’s how I stay young,” he joked, smiling toothily.

 

Aerik laughed openly and honestly, lightening the atmosphere of the room significantly.

“Snow’s melted,” he pointed out after his laughter died down, moving up onto his knees and shuffling towards the cauldron, one of the torn rags in hand. Teldryn watched out of the corner of his eye as the Nord began to meticulously wipe and dab at his torso with the wet cloth. The Dunmer bent his head low, letting his forehead rest against his knees, deepening his stretch and allowed his eyes to close. Comfortable silence passed between them for a long stretch. As Teldryn moved to take his place in front of the cauldron, Aerik was beginning to loosen the braid in his hair, procuring a small bristled brush to help work out the knots.

“Ah, see, _there’s_ the Altmer in you. Preening like some kind of palace cat…” Teldryn chuckled, wringing out his own strip of cloth.

“I like to take care of my appearance. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Aerik shot back defensively, turning his nose up. His long, golden hair glistened magnificently in the firelight after it had been thoroughly brushed. Teldryn found himself staring as Aerik began the process of re-braiding it. He shook himself out of his stupor and continued his own ministrations.

“So how old are you, sera?” Teldryn finally asked, trying to sound casual. Aerik chuckled.

“Well, believe it or not, I’m actually close to forty. So I guess I get the bit of the Mer genes that keep me looking young. Can't say I have any complaints there. What about you?” Teldryn just laughed. 

“If we're being honest, I don’t actually remember my exact age. Around two-hundred, I think… somewhere around in there. I’ve live through so much… and yet much of it feels like it happened just yesterday,” he mused thoughtfully. “I don’t feel my age, many times.”

“Well you don’t act it. You’re an incredibly fierce fighter,” Aerik commented, and Teldryn was thankful for the complement. “I most certainly wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“Ah, yes, I keep up with the youth,” Teldryn exclaimed sarcastically. They shared more laughter and the dark elf found that the Dragonborn was quite possibly one of the best patrons to have stumbled into his life. He used the remainder of the water to wash his linen undershirt, wringing it out and setting it by the fire to dry, before picking up Aerik’s and doing the same.

“Thank you,” the Nord chirped. “That task most certainly isn’t in your contract, just to be clear.”

“Yes, don’t get used to it. I’m not always feeling this generous.”

 

Chuckling, Aerik rolled to his feet and began to explore the Great Hall. There were a few bottles of mead located on one of the back shelves that seemed to catch his attention.

“You don’t think they’ll miss these, do you?” He called over his shoulder, seeming to think on it for a moment. “I’ll leave some gold in its place, just in case,” he decided, walking over to the ladder and sprinting lightly upstairs to get the coin.

“You’re too good for this world, Dragonborn,” Teldryn commented in the Nord’s general direction. He heard a distant barking laugh from the balcony.

“I try to be honest when I can… to make up for all the times when I’m not,” came the snide reply.

 

After leaving the gold on the shelf, Aerik plopped back down next to Teldryn on the floor, handing him one of the two bottles of mead. The Dunmer took it with mumbled thanks, uncorking it and taking a long swig.

“Pretty good stuff,” Aerik commented after taking his own pull. “It’s no Black Briar, but…”

“Hah! Black Briar mead is absolute swill!”

 

They proceeded to argue about different meads, which digressed into comparing and contrasting Nord alcohol and Dunmer specialties from Morrowind. Their conversation was amicable and easy, and Teldryn felt a warm and welcoming buzz wash over him, both from the mead and the company. He leaned back on his forearms, propping his feet up near the fire, and felt it almost criminal to be this relaxed while a raving madman with dragon powers threatened the known world. Aerik yawned and stretched languidly beside him.

“I think I’m going to try to get some sleep,” he announced, getting to his feet.

“Take the bed,” Teldryn offered. “I’m quite used to sleeping on the ground. Plus, you probably need the rest more than I do.”

“Well I appreciate it,” Aerik gave one of his bardic bows before striding off towards the ladder that lead up to the balcony. Teldryn watched him go for a moment. He took another swig from his own bottle of mead and turned his gaze back to the fire. What a strange situation he’d found himself in. He had half expected Aerik to suggest they share the bed, to which he may have refused once before agreeing, but maybe he was reading into the man’s flirtatious behavior more than what was actually there. _I should have bedded someone, anyone, before going on this little journey_ , Teldryn thought to himself, sighing and letting his head fall back to gaze up at the arched rafters of the Great Hall. Soft sounds of fur being adjusted upstairs signaled Aerik settling down for the night and Teldryn let his eyes fall closed, sinking down to lay flat on the floor. Before he realized it, he was drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

 

\---

 

Teldryn was awoken in the middle of the night by a strangled, panicked scream. He bolted upright, still laying by the hearth on the first floor, eyes darting wildly about. Leaping to his feet, instinct kicking in, he raced toward the ladder leading to the upstairs. As he trotted over to the center of the upper story, he found Aerik sitting up in the middle of the bed, head in his hands breathing heavily.

“Ser…” Teldryn said lowly, moving to stand beside the bed. The Nord looked up at him with wide, reddened eyes.

“He haunts my dreams,” he whispered, shivering despite the warmth of the room.  
“Miraak?” Teldryn asked gently. Aerik shook his head resolutely in response.

“No… a monster. He has one hundred eyes, one thousand arms… and… He… want’s me…” he mumbled, beginning to collapse in on himself once more.

“Shh… come now…” Teldryn soothed, sitting down onto the fur lined bed next to the man. “You are safe here.” He tentatively reached out and placed a hand on the Nord’s shoulder. Aerik’s eyes were slightly wet and held a distant look to them.

“Will you stay with me?” he asked in a hoarse whisper, avoiding eye contact with the Dunmer. Teldryn felt a weight to the question that went beyond the current moment, but he couldn't suppress the latent, paternal tug that pulled at his gut.

“Of course,” he answered easily, rubbing his hand down Aerik’s bare arm. The man whispered his weak thanks, beginning to lie back down, pulling Teldryn down with him.

 

The dark elf sighed internally before settling down beside Aerik on the fur-lined bed. He tried to keep a reasonable distance from the warm body next to him, but the Nord insisted on keeping one hand resting on the Dunmer’s bicep. Teldryn stared at the ceiling above him, still lowly lit from the hearth fire below, counting backwards from ten as he tried to ignore the gentle pressure on his arm. Who knows what the Dragonborn had dealt with up until this point, much less considering what had transpired as he had read the Black Book. Teldryn mustered as much sympathy as he could and closed his eyes, praying to Azura that he might get at least a few hours of uninterrupted sleep going forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, night terrors: aka the perfect excuse to get them to share a bed. Sorry, Aerik. Your pain shant be for naught. 
> 
> Thanks for tuning in for another chapter! Next up, dragon slaying, temper tantrums, and awkward boners???


	5. Chance's Folly

_“What are the children of men, but as leaves that drop at the wind's breath?”_

**_Homer_ , _The Illiad_  
**

 

\---

 

Morning came sooner than Teldryn would have liked. The pale light of dawn crept through the tall, narrow windows of the Great Hall, waking him like clockwork. Sighing loudly, he began to move his arms to stretch, only to find his right arm pinned to his side by a large, sleeping human that had somehow managed to nearly completely encircle him during the night. Aerik’s head lay just below his chin on the front of his right shoulder, the Nord’s right arm draped heavily across his chest and his thigh tucked up against Teldryn’s own. The dark elf blinked at the ceiling feeling trapped and awkward. There was no way to move without waking the man. He shifted his head slightly, sighing into Aerik’s hair.

“Sera,” he said, as calmly, but forcefully as he could. The man didn’t budge.

“Aerik…” he tried again, slightly louder. This got a bit of a response, the man beginning to stretch languidly against Teldryn’s side, and… _oh, sweet Oblivion, take me now_. Aerik most certainly had a bit of… morning stiffness. The Dunmer heaved a great sigh, bringing his free hand up to rub at his temples.

“Aerik, wake up, you blasted bull netch!” Teldryn barked, finally losing his patience. Aerik’s head popped up off his chest, head swiveling around to blink dumbly at the dark elf.

“Wha…” he began sleepily, before his face turned a brilliant shade of red.

“Oh, by the Divines… I am… so incredibly sorry!” he stuttered, quickly scrambling off the other side of the bed and tumbling gracelessly to the floor. He peered over the side of the bed at Teldryn, looking thoroughly ashamed.

“I assure you, that wasn’t intentional. I would never try to… to take advantage of your kindness.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Teldryn insisted, waving a hand in dismissal. “You didn’t… sully my virtue,” he said with a sideways smile, reveling in the way Aerik’s face reddened further.

 

The dark elf rolled nimbly off the bed and stretched, a chorus of pops and cracks echoing from his body. He silently padded down to the lower level to grab their two shirts that had been left to dry by the fire. He wanted to be dressed in his full armor before any of the Skaal decided to wander in. He grabbed two apples out of a basket before lightly sprinting back up the ladder. He tossed one to Aerik as he approached, the Nord catching it clumsily.

“Thank you,” he murmured, still a lovely shade of pink.

“Suit up,” Teldryn ordered, taking a bite out of his own apple and throwing the man’s shirt across the bed. “Big day ahead of you, I’m sure. Stopping madmen from destroying the known world, and what have you.” This got Aerik to smile sheepishly, at least, so Teldryn felt satisfied that he had sufficiently broken the awkward tension.

 

They dawned their armor in silence, and no sooner had Teldryn secured his helmet, the doors of the Great Hall swung open. Frea and her father strode confidently into the room, eyes towards the balcony.

“Dragonborn,” Storn called. “We hope you were able to find rest.”

“Ah… yes! Thank you,” Aerik responded, hopping down one of the ladders as he continued to secure his armor.

“Have you eaten?” Frea asked, glancing in Teldryn’s direction only briefly before focusing on Aerik once more.

“Not yet, no. We each had an apple.”

“Well, please, sit. We shall share breakfast together while I tell you of the next step you must take,” Storn offered, motioning to the table that sat a ways back from the fire pit, which mostly contained embers. Teldryn slowly joined them, sitting down at Aerik’s side as Frea put more logs onto the dwindling fire.

 

They ate horker loaf and boar meat, both incredibly fatty and greasy, leaving Teldryn feeling a bit ill. He finished his final bites without promptly throwing them back up, for which he congratulated himself, before recovering the lower half of his face with his red scarf.

“You are a dark elf,” Frea said, suddenly, her eyes on Teldryn.

“Is that a problem?” Aerik asked before Teldryn could even respond, his tone pointed. Frea’s head snapped to look at the Dragonborn, eyes wide.

“No, of course not,” she stuttered. “I had just… realized I had not seen his face.”

“I prefer to keep anonymity in my line of work, outside of those who employ me,” Teldryn responded dryly, earning a quick nod from Frea.

“I didn’t mean any offense,” she offered. “Any friend of the Dragonborn is a friend of mine.”

“Yes, we are your allies. Do not ever think otherwise. Now, Dragonborn,” Storn said, thoughtfully. “We have been able to protect ourselves thus far here in the village from Miraak’s mental influences, but I’m afraid our time is running out. As I was beginning to tell you last night, there is a dragon wall with a word of power inscribed upon it here on the island. It is said that Miraak learned this shout long ago.” The old man paused dramatically. Aerik stopped chewing mid bite to look at Storn with impatience. The shaman continued on after a beat.

 

“I believe if you use this shout on the Wind Stone it will break the hold Miraak has over our people. In order to find it, you must travel to Saering’s Watch, which is located on one of the highest mountains on Solstheim.”

“Of course it is,” Teldryn sighed just loud enough for Aerik to hear. The Nord elbowed him gently, shooting him a sly smile.

“I can take you there, easily,” Frea offered. “I know the fastest route.”

“Are you sure?” Aerik asked, setting his food down and creasing his brow in concern. Frea nodded vigorously.

“Yes, it would be an honor to aid you,” she assured. Teldryn rolled his eyes behind his mask, leaning an elbow on the table in exasperation. Great, another distraction at best, and a liability at worst. The Skaal woman was a talented fighter, for sure, but having her tagging along would most likely slow them down. Teldryn was going to try to play nice, so long as Aerik wanted her around.

“Well we should be on our way soon, then!” Aerik exclaimed, clapping his hands together excitedly. Teldryn smirked. At least the Nord seemed to be regaining a bit of his bardic spirit.

“Ready when you are, Ser,” Teldryn added, earning him a beaming smile from his patron.

 

\---

 

The dragon’s roar was deafening. Teldryn felt his own teeth vibrating in his head as the gigantic beast swooped down on them from above. He had barely had time to dive out of the way of a massive fire blast, tumbling and rolling through the snow.

“Teldryn! To your left!” Aerik called, letting loose an arrow that seemed to easily find its mark between the dragon’s thick scales. Teldryn dodged a powerful swing from an angry draugr’s battleaxe, conjuring the swirling purple energy of Oblivion into his hand to summon his flame atronach. The molten figure burst forth into existence, immediately moving to attack the nearest draugr. Teldryn spun on his heel as he heard a thundering shout rip through the air, turning to see Aerik charging the dragon. The massive beast was knocked off course by the force of the Dragonborn’s shout and crashed into the snowy hillside. Frea also had her hands full dealing with the attacking draugr. Teldryn, drew his sword, spinning it once in his right hand, before plunging it deeply into a draugr that stood in his way as he bolted to be by Aerik’s side.

“Sera!” he called, but Aerik seemed not to hear him.

 

With only an Elven sword and dagger, the man charged the downed dragon, leaping against the things neck and driving his weapons into its tough skin. The dragon roared wordlessly, attempting to turn around and snap at the Nord. Teldryn hurled a massive fireball at the dragon’s face, attempting to distract it as Aerik hacked away at it from the side. It turned its glowing, beady eyes on Teldryn, pure hatred burning within them. The Dunmer did, in that moment, feel quite afraid. The dragon seemed to recoil, like a snake about to strike, inhaling deeply to let loose another massive wave of fire breath right in Teldryn’s direction. Before it could finish, Aerik moved beneath it and leapt upwards, driving his sword into the soft meat below the dragon’s jaw, running the blade completely through the beast’s head. With a strangled roar, it collapsed, shaking the ground as it fell.

 

Teldryn could do nothing but stare. Aerik stood by the dragon, sword and dagger held limply at his sides. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes. Frea, who had finished disposing of the remaining draugr came up to stand beside Teldryn.

“What is he doing?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“I can’t say I know…” the dark elf confessed, sheathing his sword.

 

A great, swirling light began to emerge from the dragon, beginning to flow towards Aerik… but at the last moment it changed directions. The Nord’s eyes snapped open, head jerking to follow the light. In front of them, on that snowy hillside, a translucent figure began to manifest. Miraak stood before them in all his terrifying glory.

“Do you ever wonder if it hurts? To have one’s soul ripped out like that?" he mused, holding his hand out in front of him pensively, watching the pulsing light. "One step closer to my return," he chuckled, absorbing the rest of the radiant light from the dragon’s shriveling corpse before disappearing just as quickly as he had appeared. Aerik had a look that seemed to be a mixture of shock, anger, and fear rippling across his face.

“He… he just… _stole_ that dragon’s soul,” he finally stammered, striding over to where Teldryn and Frea stood. “He stole it, that son of a bitch! That was supposed to be mine!” Aerik stomped his foot petulantly. Teldryn couldn’t help but laugh, which only served to make Aerik angrier.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized through his chuckling. “It’s just absurd… you just slayed a dragon with your bare hands, and now you’re stomping about like a child who didn’t get his sweet roll.”

“It is NOT funny,” Aerik insisted, glaring at Frea to look for support. She simply blinked at him.

“Well, it appears you’re just going to have to kill him extra hard,” Teldryn supplied, unhelpfully, crossing his arms. Aerik stomped off through the ruins, kicking at a felled draugr as he turned to sprint up a set of steep stairs. Teldryn turned to Frea.

“We should probably follow him,” he suggested. The woman was looking nervously at the spot where the spectral figure of Miraak had stood, before nodding sternly and taking off after the Dragonborn.    

 

Teldryn made his way up the last few steps of Saering’s Watch to witness Aerik approaching the dragon wall, hand outstretched. He brushed his fingertips lightly over a section of the carved writing, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. Teldryn kept his distance, but his mind burned with curiosity.

“Can you read it?” Frea asked, and Teldryn wanted to punch her for needlessly distracting the Dragonborn. Aerik shook his head, eyes still closed.

“No… not really. But I can feel it. It feels like ice... but also fire. It’s just… there.” He backed away from the wall, looking up at the large carving at the top. He took a sharp, deep intake of breath.

“ _GOL_!” came the abrupt shout, causing both Teldryn and Frea to take a startled step backwards. A swirling orange and green light energy erupted forth from Aerik, washing over the wall like smoke before dissipating. He turned around to grin at Teldryn specifically.

“Yes, yes, it’s very impressive,” the Dunmer agreed dryly, his sarcasm hiding exactly _how_ impressive the Dragonborn’s abilities really were to him. Aerik strode over and punched him amicably on his less armored shoulder.

“Come on, let’s go free the Skaal.”

 

\---

 

The Wind Stone stood out starkly against the pale sky, the scaffolding around it creaking ominously in the strong, frigid air current that blew down the mountainside. Aerik eyed it warily, glancing over at Teldryn momentarily, before stepping up to the outer edge of the stone circle. The people working around it paid him no mind, continuing their mindless construction. Aerik took another sharp intake of breath, releasing the same shout as earlier. Unlike the dragon wall, the Wind Stone seemed to suck up all the orange and green light energy that Aerik created. The people around it slowed to a halt, blinking in confusion at their surroundings.

“Wha... where am I?”

“What’s going on?”

“What am I doing here?”

 

A small murmur of confusion ran through the crowd as they slowly came back to their senses. Frea looked overjoyed.

“People of the Skaal! You are free of Miraak’s control, thanks to the Dragonborn!” She called out, gesturing to Aerik who tried to look like he knew what he was doing. Teldryn narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Well, that was easy…” Aerik commented, looking to his companion.

 

As if on cue, the water around the Wind Stone irrupted with thrashing tentacles, a massive monster emerging from slimy unseen depths. It let out a bone shaking roar, beady eyes turning to look at the Dragonborn. The Skall people scattered, screams of panic cutting through the air as they scrambled to get away from the abomination.

“Shit…” Aerik mumbled, drawing his sword and conjuring electrical energy in his left hand. Teldryn was already summoning a flame atronach, drawing his own sword.

“Frea, get your people out of here!” Aerik commanded, loosing his first bolt of chain lightening at the eldritch creature. It shrieked, stumbling back slightly, only to regain itself and stomp threateningly in their direction. From its foot, a wide circle of writhing tentacles sprang up from the ground, licking and grabbing at Aerik and Teldryn’s legs. The Dunmer suddenly felt violently ill, the smell of rotting fish and stagnant mud flooding his senses, making him weak. He shook it off as best he could and charged the monster, getting three solid strikes with his blade before he had to duck and dodge another tentacle attack. His atronach was keeping its distance, throwing a steady stream of fire at the thing.

“Teldryn, stay back!” Aerik barked, lobbing another wave of chain lightening. Teldryn expertly rolled away from the monster and out of range just as he heard the Dragonborn gearing up for another shout.

“ _YOL… TOOR SHUL_!” Teldryn covered his eyes as a wall of fire and heat exploded forth from where Aerik stood, washing over the slimy beast and causing it to scream out in pain. Teldryn coughed at the smoke that it gave off, the smell being something akin to rotting fish that had still been cooked.

 

The creature was still alive, but barely. It knelt in the shallow cesspool that surrounded the stone. Aerik strode over to the thing, spinning his sword in his right hand once before grabbing the hilt with both hands and driving the blade down through the thing’s head. As he yanked his sword free, the beast fell to its side, splashing the brackish water across Aerik’s leather armor. His gaze immediately found Teldryn, shooting him a nervous smile.

“Are you ok?” he asked, sheathing his sword and walking over to the dark elf.

“Just a little disgusted, but otherwise I’ll be fine,” Teldryn quipped. His flame atronach came floating over, doing lazy flips in the air before returning to Oblivion with a crackle of energy.

 

Frea called to them halfway up the hill, gesturing towards her village. The pair set off, trudging up the mountainside once more. The Skaal people were gathered in the center of town, the air buzzing with excitement and echoes of laughter as families and friends were reunited.

“Dragonborn,” Storn called out. “You have done us a great service on this day.” The man smiled warmly, placing a hand on Aerik’s shoulder. “I can only hope you will show the rest of Solstheim this kindness.”

“What’s that now?” Aerik asked, his smile faltering.

“There are four other stones on this island that are being corrupted by Miraak’s thralls. While I don’t think cleansing them will stop whatever it is he’s doing, I do think it will slow him down,” Storn explained. Aerik nodded numbly.

“Right… only four more stones. Not a problem,” he sighed wearily, catching Teldryn’s eye.

“I shall be by your side, Sera,” the Dunmer offered, not too pleased about the situation himself. His words seemed to comfort Aerik, however, who gave a resolute nod.

“Right… Well, before I go, Storn, I need to ask one more favor…”

“Yes, of course,” Storn nodded stoically.      

“I need you to tell me more about this… Black Book,” Aerik motioned to the pack on his back. “I think they’re the key to defeating Miraak. I need to know what they are, where they come from…” Storn was already shaking his head.

“They are beyond my realm of knowledge, I am sorry. They are of a terrible evil, one with which I do not associate. However…” he paused, stroking his bear. “The dark elf… the master wizard, Neloth. He came to our village not too long ago asking about Black Books. He seemed to know what they were. He had a great interest in finding one, possibly _too_ great.”

“Where can I find him?” Aerik asked, expression turning stony.

“I know where he lives,” Teldryn butted in with a heaving sigh. “But I will warn you, he’s a right ass.” Aerik beamed at him, and Teldryn found he was beginning to quite enjoy that ridiculous smile.

“Where would I be without you,” he winked.  
“Possibly dead,” Teldryn remarked with a smirk.

 

They bid their farewells to Storn and Frea, the latter offering to help the Dragonborn in battle if he ever needed to call upon her.

“Travel safely, my friends,” she wished, smiling warmly at both of the men as they turned to leave the village. Aerik gave one last wave over his shoulder as the Skaal village chorused their various ‘goodbye’s and ‘thank you’s in their wake. He put an arm around Teldryn’s shoulder as they walked.

“I’m bloody exhausted,” he sighed loudly. “But no rest for the wicked, I suppose.” Teldryn shrugged the Nord’s arm off his shoulder.

“There is still time left in the day, but if you feel we should make camp to recover, I would not be opposed,” he offered. Aerik waved his hand in front of his face.

“No, no, onwards and upwards. Let’s at least try to make it to another stone before we bed down.”

“Well, the most logical would be the Earth Stone,” Teldryn supplied. “It’s on the small peninsula that jets out from Raven Rock. Since we’d already be at the settlement, Geldis gives me a discount for rooms at the Netch where we could sleep safely.”

“That’s definitely a nice perk,” Aerik acknowledged with a grin. “So… do you think one of those nasty monsters is going to show up every time I cleanse a stone?”  
  
“Either that or something of the equivalent,” Teldryn grumbled. “These things are never that easy.”

“I should know that by now…” Aerik sighed.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you silly boy, you should know by now that the dragon is ALWAYS on the highest mountain, and monsters ALWAYS appear when they're most unwanted. A bit of fourth wall breaking is healthy.  
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! It was a bit longer and a bit more action packed. I can't say I'm the best at writing combat scenes, but it is fun to try.  
> Next chapter will be posted in the coming week!


	6. A Dance in Fire, v 1

_“Any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”_  
**Homer,** _**The Illiad**_

  
\---

 

They reached Raven Rock by early evening, having only run into a couple of Ash Spawn and a pair of belligerent reavers on their way down from the mountain. They strode through the main gates of the settlement and made their way through the center of town. Aerik nodded politely to Glovin Mallory as they passed the smithy, earning a small chuckle from Teldryn.

“Already on good terms with Glover, are you?” he asked, waving to the man himself as they passed.

“Well, when I got here, he was the only other human I encountered… and the only person willing to talk to me for more than five seconds. He’s the one that directed me to the Retching Netch.”

“So I should personally thank him for my current predicament, is what you’re saying?” Teldryn shot back without any real malice. Aerik laughed tiredly.  
“Yes, precisely,” he huffed.

 

The Earth Stone was buzzing with just as many people as the Wind Stone, all slogging away, driven by the unseen, glassy-eyed and slack jawed. After Aerik had loosed his dragon shout, the same type of monster once against burst forth into their realm. This time, however, they had allies in the recently freed citizens of Raven Rock, a few of whom were soldiers. The monster went down quickly and without much fanfare, though when Teldryn glanced over at Aerik, it was obvious that the man was utterly exhausted. He walked over to the Nord, who still stood in the midst of the murky pool long after the freed men and mer had walked away, staring down at the massive abomination that lay at his feet.

“Come,” Teldryn said lowly, placing a firm hand on his patron’s shoulder. Aerik didn’t move right away.

“I feel… incredible guilt for letting another night pass in which the citizens of this island are forced to work against their will,” he sighed heavily, looking at Teldryn with purple half-moons under his eyes.

“Well, you’ll be useless to them unless you rest yourself,” the Dunmer reasoned in a sharp tone. Aerik smiled kindly, glancing back down at the monster but allowing himself to be pulled away from the Earth Stone none-the-less.

“Where would I be without you?” he asked for the second time that day.

 

The Netch had never felt so welcoming. Teldryn heaved a great sigh as they walked through the main door. The soft flickering of firelight and the rich, heavily spiced smells wafting over from the cooking pot immediately drained away some of his weariness. He was glad to see that even Mogrul and Slitter had retired for the evening and wouldn’t be around to bother anyone.

“I’m starving,” Aerik commented as they descending the main staircase to the lower level.

“How serendipitous, they serve food here,” Teldryn quipped, earning an eye-roll and chuckle. They approached the bar, sitting down in tandem.

“Well, welcome back,” Geldis grinned toothily, setting down the tankard he had been polishing. “What can I do for you gents?”

“Two rooms for the night, if you have it. And this one wants food,” Teldryn jerked his head in Aerik’s direction who smiled and nodded excitedly at the bar keep.

“Alright, that’ll be fifteen for the two rooms, and what’ll you be having, Sera?” he addressed the Nord politely. Aerik proceeded to order a feast, to which Geldis looked both thankful for and annoyed by.

“Coming right up,” he said flatly, after Aerik had finally finished ordering half the menu.

“Oh, and two of your house sujammas. It was delicious the first time, by the way,” the Nord added. Geldis beamed, shifting his demeanor immediately.

“Thank you kindly! I’m working on a new recipe, actually…”

 

Teldryn sighed softly, tuning them out as the two began to chat amicably. He got up and stretching languidly before taking one of the keys Geldis had put on the counter and sauntering off towards the rooms. He had placed them directly across from each other on the far side of the Netch. As he unlocked his chambers for the night, a different door caught his eye. It appeared that Geldis had finally gotten around to installing a bath room, after much suggestion from various patrons. The ash wastes often left one feeling grimy and raw, and a proper bath house was something the settlement had lacked for a very long time. The merc wandered over, knocking on the door once, before pushing inside. It was a dark, cold, and slightly damp room with a vaulted ceiling. A large, ceramic tub sat in a metal frame over a round pit filled with a thin layer of ash. A dark metal hand pump sat at the edge of the tub, extending from the ground. Teldryn stepped further in, curiosity and intrigue getting the better of him. It appeared a fire was created beneath the tub to heat the water, and then allowed to burn lowly to maintain warmth. There was also a standing area for less decadent cleaning procedures, shelves lined with rough spun towels, various oils, and soaps. The whole room had a pleasant, earthy, herbal smell to it. The dark elf smiled to himself before turning and exiting.

 

Back at the bar, Aerik was starting in on his sujamma, the second bottle sitting in Teldryn’s spot.

“Geldis, how much to use the bath?” the dark elf asked, feeling pleased with how Aerik’s eyes lit up.

“Ah, you notice that, did you? Yeah, it’s brand new! Just finished getting it all together last week. Cost me a pretty piece, though, so it’s ten gold per hour,” he supplied. Teldryn looked at Aerik, who just nodded furiously.

“I’d quite literally give my right arm for a proper bath,” he exclaimed, already reaching for his coin purse. Geldis had stars in his eyes.

“Right, well, er, it’ll take at least an hour to get ready. I have a new assistant who will take care of it for you. How long will you be needing it for?”

“Let’s say two hours,” Teldryn supplied, getting a nod of agreement from Aerik.

 

After Aerik’s food was served, the merc and his patron proceeded to chat idly, exchanging various war stories and bar tales. The Nord was endlessly filled with entertaining stories, both his own and others. Teldryn actually found himself genuinely laughing along at some of them.

“As you can probably guess, I simply can’t _walk away_ from someone challenging me to a drinking match,” Aerik chuckled, taking around his food. “But the next thing I know, I’m waking up in the temple of Dibella in Markarth with a splitting headache, the place is a wreck, and I have a wedding ring on my finger.”

“How on _Nirn_ did you manage to black out completely and still have the wherewithal to withstand a wedding ceremony?” Teldryn nearly cackled. He pulled his red scarf away from his face and indulged in some of Geldis’s sujamma that Aerik had bought him. The stuff was delicious, though he’d never admit it.

“Oh, that’s not all I managed to do…”

 

In what felt like no time, a young Dunmer girl came over and let them know that the bath was ready.

“Perfect! Thank you!” Aerik beamed as he rose from his chair, and the appraising once-over the girl gave him didn’t escape Teldryn’s notice.

“Don’t take forever,” Teldryn drawled. “Believe it or not I _also_ enjoy feeling clean once in a while.”

“Well you could always just join me and save some time,” Aerik replied with a wink, earning a barking laugh from Teldryn.

“Ha! In your dreams, you libertine,” he replied, shooing the Nord away. Out of the corner of Teldryn’s eye he saw Geldis giving him ‘a look’. He turned to face the Dunmer.

“What is it,” he stated more than asked.

“Just never seen you so chatty with a patron,” Geldis replied innocently. “That’s all. Didn’t know you actually had a sense of humor.”

“Well that’s because you’ve never spoken to me outside of formalities,” Teldryn took a swig of the sujamma pointedly.

“Ah, of course, forgive me for not trying to get friendly with the spellsword for hire,” Geldis scoffed, picking up a tankard and beginning to polish it.

“Yes, well, it’s probably in your best interest anyhow…” the merc grumbled, finishing off his sujamma and getting up from the bar.

 

Teldryn passed the bath room door and paused momentarily, his mind wandering to inappropriate places. He shook his head to clear it, marching towards his own room with haste. _He isn’t serious when he says these things_ … he chastised himself, unlocking the door to the suite and stepping inside. Geldis had set him up with one of the nicer ones – spacious, warm, large bed. He’d have to remember to leave an extra coin or two for that mer before they left tomorrow. He began to peel away his heavy armor, feeling the physical weight of the day falling away with each piece that fell to the floor. The merc stretched again, reaching his arms up high above his head before falling back onto the bed behind him with an _oof_. He closed his eyes, only for a moment, allowing himself to rest a bit before it was his turn to wash up for the evening. His extremities felt heavy and the sujamma made his head spin ever so slightly. He breathed deeply, telling himself that he’d get up in just a few minutes.

 

However briefly he may have fallen asleep, Teldryn awoke with start, momentarily disoriented. He rubbed his eyes, getting to his feet and stumbling sleepily to the door of his room. When he peered out into the hallway, the Netch was still open, but significantly quieter than before. He padded softly over to Aerik’s room, rapping against the door briskly with the back of his knuckles. He waited a beat, got no response, then knocked again. When he tried the handle, the door was locked. With a short sigh, he stayed to the shadows as he made his way to the bath room.

 

The bath’s door was unlocked, and a thick wall of steam greeted Teldryn as he entered. The heat in the room was unbelievably inviting, and the Dunmer felt a small tug of homesickness.

“Ser?” he called out, unsure if Aerik was still taking his turn. He stepped cautiously towards the outline of the tub in the center of the room. As he drew closer, he noticed the long golden hair draped over the back edge of the rim.

“Aerik?” he asked tentatively, the Nord’s name still slightly unfamiliar on his tongue. There was a soft rippling sound of swirling water followed by a deep sigh. Teldryn walked as close to the tub as he could, the embers of the original fire beneath it still glowing a deep, hot red. Sure enough, still lounging in the tub, sat the Dragonborn – eyes closed and dead to the world. Teldryn was conflicted for a moment as to whether or not he should rouse the man, but figured it would be best not to let him sit in water for too long.

 

“Sera,” he called lowly, reaching a hand out to shake Aerik gently. The only light in the room came from a single sconce on the far wall, casting dramatically long shadows across the stone floor. The water in the tub was too dark for Teldryn to make out any details concerning the man’s body, but his imagination wasn’t letting him off easy. Aerik’s eyes fluttered open, blinking sleepily into the haze and dull light for a moment before settling on Teldryn’s face. The soft, familiar smile he gave him made something deep in the Dunmer’s chest constrict.

“Hey there, handsome,” the Nord greeted, voice low and gravely from sleep. Teldryn’s throat felt dry.

“I think… you may have fallen asleep,” Teldryn offered, trying to stay professional. Aerik yawned, arching his back against the ceramic tub, his bare chest rising to the surface of the water. The merc averted his eyes.

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have eaten that much, had a full bottle of sujamma, and then promptly gotten into a hot bath…” he mused, sitting up. Teldryn glanced over guiltily to watch the rivulets of water roll down the Nord’s back, his golden hair clinging to his shoulders and neck.

“Are you feeling unwell?” he asked, angry at how shaky his voice sounded. He saw Aerik shake his head.

“No, I’m fine… but thank you for coming to check on me. My fingers were beginning to prune,” he laughed softly, beginning to rise out of the water. Teldryn turned away, facing the far wall, a flood of heat washing into his face. He heard Aerik step out of the bath, his wet footprints loud against the stone floor as he strode to where the towels were located.

“Not the softest towels, but they’ll do,” he commented, and Teldryn laughed nervously, eyes still glued to the far wall.

 

After a moment of shuffling and drying, he finally heard Aerik approach him.

“All yours,” he said, too close for the Dunmer’s liking.

“Thank you,” he replied, clipped and formal. “Rest well, Sera,” he added, still refusing to turn and look at the man. He heard the Nord sigh before softly padding out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Teldryn let out a long, heavy breath. _Fuck_ , he thought angrily, tearing off his shirt and pants a little more forcefully than necessary.

 

The water was still quite hot as he lowered himself in to the massive tub. There was a wooden lattice platform in the bottom to prevent one from burning themselves against the hot ceramic, and a small neck rest against the sloping back end. Teldryn eased himself back, groaning as the heat of the water seeped into his muscles and relaxed him to his core. It had been far too long since he’d taken as luxurious a bath as this. He sighed contentedly, letting his eyes fall closed.

 

As much as he tried to keep his thoughts blank, they kept circling back around to the damn Dragonborn… especially the look of him in the bath – glistening, heat drunk, and vulnerable. He felt himself stiffen between his legs and cursed in Dunmeri into the echoing chamber. He rubbed his hands vigorously over his face, trying to shake himself free of the lecherous thoughts, but found Aerik’s face kept swimming back into view. What would he look like lost in pleasure? What noises would he make, head thrown back in reckless abandon, body arching into skilled hands as they…

 

Teldryn groaned loudly, reaching below the water to roughly grab his ill-behaved cock.

“No,” he groaned, but only half-heartedly meant it. He stroked himself languidly under the water, both furious with himself and unbelievably turned on. His head thunked loudly as he let it fall back against the tub, forcing himself to remove his hand from its ministrations. He opened his eyes to look up at the domed ceiling, frustrated in more ways than one. The condensation that had gathered at the top seized that exact moment to let loose a single water droplet that expertly landed in his right eye.

 

With a growl, Teldryn sat up and forcibly began to wash himself, suddenly wanting to get the damn bath over and done with. Even after he had finished cleaning and stepped out of the warm water, his erection was not giving him any reprieve. He glared down at his dick like the traitor it was before vigorously drying off and shoving himself back into his clothes, keeping his used towel inconspicuously placed over his groin. He blew out of the bathroom and stomped down the hall to his room, pausing with his hand on the door handle to look over his shoulder at Aerik’s door. Everything seemed quiet enough… With another great sigh, Teldryn pushed the door to his own room open, stepped inside, and immediately fell back against it in exasperation as it clicked shut.

 

He closed his eyes, taking a long, deep breath. _Fuck it_ , he thought, pulling down the waist of his pants and taking his length into his hand. He squeezed, causing himself to groan throatily, wondering exactly how long it had been since he last felt this kind of desperate need. He pressed his back against the door, his body tightening as he stroked himself at a brutal pace. To his chagrin, the Dragonborn’s face popped into the front of his mind, that knowing smile taunting him even in his fantasies. He imagined Aerik on his knees on the floor in front of him, that mouth stretching around his cock, the Nord’s eyes half-closed as he sucked him off, golden hair clenched in one of Teldryn’s fists...

 

The Dunmer’s climax startled him, and he slapped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from crying out as he pumped himself to completion, spilling his seed across the stony floor. With ragged breath, he took the towel he had dropped upon entering the room and wiped himself off before throwing it across the mess he’d made in front of him. After a bit more clean-up and gingerly tucking his slightly abused cock back into his pants, he wobbled over to the bed, collapsing bonelessly against the fur. It felt like no time before he completely lost consciousness, falling into a deep, graciously dreamless sleep.

 

\---

 

Something woke Teldryn up in the dead of the night. He sat up in bed, blinking blearily around his room. He’d fallen asleep without putting any of the sconces out. Perhaps the light had awoken him. No… there was an odd, tight sensation in his gut, some kind of intuition having pulled him out of his slumber. He got to his feet, unsteady, suddenly at the behest of a strong urge to check on Aerik. As he swung the door open, his heart nearly leapt out of his throat as he was immediately confronted with a tall figure. Aerik was standing in front of his door, hand raised, ready to knock.

“I’m… sorry?” Aerik began, his face pale, a slight sheen of sweat coating his neck and chest. “Did I wake you?”

“It looks like you were about to,” Teldryn pointed out, trying to get his heart rate back down to normal from the slight scare. Aerik at least had the decency to look embarrassed. He averted his eyes.

 

“Nightmares?” Teldryn asked, receiving a nod. He sighed, stepping to the side and allowing Aerik room to walk through the door. The Nord murmured a quiet thanks as he shuffled past and moved to sit down in one of the chairs next to the bed.

“This one was worse than last night…” Aerik began to explain, leaning his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands. “I was back inside the book. I kept running through this… never-ending maze of bookcases and spires. The creature from the Standing Stones was pursuing me, and every time I killed it, another would take its place. The whole time… those _eyes_ were watching me from above. It’s like the monster behind this realm is _playing_ with me.”

 

Teldryn sat down on the edge of the bed near Aerik, brow creased in concern. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and closed it again.

“I know this isn’t in your job description,” Aerik laughed bitterly. “And I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“You didn’t… I had woken up on my own accord,” Teldryn assured, crossing his arms. He wanted to offer Aerik the choice to stay with him… it was burning on the edge of his tongue, making his chest constrict. An awkward silence settled between them, and the Dunmer felt like his head was about to explode.

“You could…” he began finally, prompting Aerik to look up from his hunched position. _No going back now_ , Teldryn thought to himself, sighing softly.

“You could… stay in here… if you’d like, that is,” he squeeze out, trying to keep his tone level and facial expression schooled into a cool mask. He finally looked Aerik in the eyes and it registered how truly exhausted the man looked.

“I really don’t want to impose…” Aerik said finally, giving Teldryn a tremendous sense of relief knowing he didn’t misinterpret the situation.

“Nonsense… If it means you’re able to rest, then it’s not an imposition,” he insisted, standing up and offering a hand to Aerik to help him rise. Aerik accepted it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

 

Teldryn quickly walked to the opposite side of the room to put out a few of the sconces as Aerik shuffled quietly into bed. Teldryn stood with his back turned to the Nord, thinking over his situation for a moment. The man who was the subject of his lewd thoughts not mere hours ago would now be sleeping next to him. Of course, they shared a bed the previous night, but circumstances were different now. Teldryn _felt_ _differently_ now. He sighed heavily, giving his dick a mental talking-to as to not embarrass him at any point, before turning around and striding back over to the bed.

 

Aerik had positioned himself as close to the edge of the bed as possible, his back to Teldryn.

“I’ll try not to assault you in the night this time,” he joked, and Teldryn chuckled in response, but said nothing. He settled in, lying on his back with his hands covering his stomach, unable to close his eyes as the warm body next to him breathed in and out steadily. Minutes passed, his eyes finally beginning to feel heavy enough to close when Aerik spoke again.

“I feel like a coward,” he admitted, barely above a whisper.

“Don’t,” Teldryn replied firmly. “Like the Skaal shaman said, those books have the ability to drive those who read them mad. I feel like nightmares are acceptable, if not expected.”

“Yes, but I’m the bloody _Dragonborn_ …" Aerik rolled onto his back, bumping into Teldryn's arm. "Hero of Tamriel, or whatever bullshit titles they give! And look at me. Afraid to sleep… plagued by silly little nightmares... and I certainly can’t come running to you every time I have them, can I?”

“While I’m in your service, you most certainly can,” Teldryn countered. Aerik huffed petulantly.

“Well, then it just feels like I’m using you beyond your usual contract,” he grumbled, causing Teldryn to laugh.

“Sera, we have moved way beyond the terms of my usual contract.”

 

Aerik rolled over to face him, the low lighting of the flickering sconce making the man look older, his eyes sunken and cheekbones sharp.

“I’m sorry…” he muttered. “Nothing is ever normal for me. I… should have told you who I was when I first met you. It wasn't fair. At least then you would have known what you were getting yourself into before you agreed.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Teldryn assured, shrugging. He looked back up at the ceiling pensively. “I’m a glutton for punishment, and addicted to danger…” He glanced at Aerik thoughtfully. “I would have accepted no matter what.” The warm, yet tired, smile he received had Teldryn’s chest constricting. The Nord placed his large, warm hand on Teldryn’s upper arm.

“Thank you,” he nearly whispered, and _Gods,_ Teldryn wanted this man. Admitting it to himself made the situation feel all the more grave. But he did. He wanted to know him, through and through, to learn his likes and dislikes, his quirks, his shotcomings, his past, his future. He wanted him to be safe, to be healthy… he wanted to keep Aerik in his life. This revelation scared the ever living shit out of Teldryn. The Dunmer nodded, not trusting his voice to speak and watched as Aerik rolled back over to go to sleep.

 

Teldryn lay awake for a bit longer, an exquisite pain gripping his heart, his mind racing.

 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tropes on Tropes on Tropes.  
> Dance my puppets.


	7. The City of Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahoy! Another chapter!  
> Feat. everyone's favorite Wiz-Waz McGrumpyPants, Master Neloth.

 

 

 

 

_“No one can hurry me down to Hades before my time, but if a man's hour is come, be he brave or be he coward, there is no escape for him when he has once been born.”_  
_**Homer, ** **The Iliad** _

  
\---

 

The next morning Teldryn awoke to the soft movements of Aerik getting out of the bed. The Nord tried to shuffle as quietly as he could, but Teldryn woke to the sound of a pin drop.

“Did you find any rest?” he asked, voice hoarse with sleep. Aerik cursed.

“I was really trying not to wake you,” he admitted sheepishly, walking over to light one of the sconces across the room.

“Impossible, I’m afraid,” Teldryn sighed, stretching languidly before sitting up. “My time spent with the Morag Tong prevents me from sleeping too deeply.”

“Ah, well… that makes sense, I suppose,” Aerik laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll just… go back to my room and get dressed,” he stumbled, backing out of the room.

“I shall meet you out front,” Teldryn nodded curtly, watching Aerik curiously as he left.

 

Teldryn scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear his thoughts. Last night had his brain in a haze, which was something he couldn’t afford. It was the sujamma and the bath that kept him from thinking clearly. Surely. No more nonsense going forward, especially concerning inappropriate feelings for his damned patron. Aside from being purely unprofessional, it was also a danger to both himself and Aerik. Attachments could lead to distractions, which could lead to certain, inescapable death. Teldryn should know this by now. He should never forget that lesson.

 

The dark elf dressed quickly and gathered his items. He exited his room and dropped his key in the return box at the bar – it was still far too early for Geldis to be up and about. He climbed the stairs to the upper level of the Netch and pushed through the front door. The sun was just beginning to light the sky, casting Raven Rock in a dim, reddish glow. The clouds of ash prevented much light from seeping through most days, but every now and then the wind would clear the skies for a brief moment. It appeared that today was one of those days. The Red Mountain rumbled threateningly off in the distance and Teldryn inhaled deeply, tasting ash on in the back of his throat. He whispered a small prayer to Azura, readying himself for the day ahead.

 

The door opened behind him and he felt Aerik join him at his side.

“That was fast,” the Nord pointed out with a chuckle. “Eager to get on the road?”

“I may have an abundance of patience, dear boy, but that doesn’t mean I don’t become restless,” Teldryn quipped, causing Aerik to laugh easily.

“An _abundance_ of patience? Here I thought I was the one telling the tall tales…” They fell into step beside each other, bickering back and for amicably as they exited the small settlement through the main portcullis of the bulwark. The open air of the ash lands always put Teldryn on edge, fighting the urge to constantly look over his shoulder.

“Neloth lives in a small Telvanni tower called Tel Mythrin,” Teldryn explained to pass the time as they walked. “If we follow the coast we should reach it in only a few hours. We could cut through the ash wastes, but I don’t think it will save us too much time in the long run, considering the ash hoppers and other such inconveniences we may run into.”

“Right,” Aerik nodded, stretching his arms to loosen them up. “And you know this guy? I mean… you seemed familiar with him, and all.”

“Yes,” Teldryn sighed. “He’s one of the oldest remaining members of the House of Telvanni. We aren’t on… friendly terms, but then again I can’t say I know of anyone who is with him. The mer is insufferable.”

“Maybe you two are just too much alike,” Aerik jeered, nudging Teldryn with his elbow. The dark elf forcefully shoved him away, causing the Nord to cackle.

“Azura knows why I suffer the likes of _you_ as it is…” he shot back in feigned malice.

“The money doesn’t hurt,” Aerik offered with a shrug and a sideways smile. Teldryn did laugh at that, somewhat bitterly.

“No, it certainly doesn’t.”

The pair didn’t encounter too many interruptions on their trek, easily dispatching several ash spawn. It wasn’t until they encountered a burnt spriggan that Aerik seemed to really light up.

“What in the name of Oblivion is that!?” he yelled at Teldryn, grinning from ear to ear as the thing lobbed massive fire balls at him – all of which he dodged.

“It’s a damn spriggan and it _will_ kill you if you don’t watch your ass!” Teldryn spat, drawing his sword and dagger. “And don’t even think about using fire on it… it won’t work.”  
“How charming!” Aerik chirped, sending a blast of icy cold frost at the angry creature. It shrieked at the onslaught, charging Aerik with an outstretched arm, fire burning in the palms of its hand.

“Aerik _move_!” Teldryn shouted, leaping over to push the stupid Nord out of the way, getting nicely singed by the spriggan in the process. He thanked Azura for his heritage and his high tolerance for fire before wheeling on the creature, slashing away at the beast. The wood of the spriggan crackled and popped, radiating heat as the metal of the Elven blades cut into it.

“Teldryn, duck!” Aerik called from behind him, and the merc responded immediately, tucking and rolling out of the way as three massive ice spikes lodged themselves into the spirggan’s torso. The thing let out another keening cry before falling to the ground. Aerik let out a little victory whoop, beginning to approach the creature.

“No, _wait_!” Teldryn cried mere seconds before the spriggan exploded, knocking both of them backwards.

 

They both irrupted into coughing fits, the smell of smoke and burning wood pungent in the air. Aerik was the first to his feet, laughing joyously.

“You blade happy idiot,” Teldyn scolded affectionately as Aerik reaching a hand down to help him up.

“With as many things that try to kill me in a week, after a while… you just have to laugh,” he explained, dusting himself off. The dark elf scoffed.

“I suppose humor is the font of youth.”

 

Tel Mythrin was within sight as they continued their trek across the ash wastes. Teldryn sighed heavily, vaguely dreading their encounter the high-and-mighty Wizard of House Telvanni. Aerik seemed to be awestruck by the architecture – the small cluster of organic towers dominating the top of the hill overlooking the coast. As they approached the massive fungi, two Dunmer were standing in the courtyard, if one could call it that. Teldryn could immediately garner that they were apprentices, bickering about spells and approval. Aerik seemed oblivious to their uselessness, striding over and smiling warmly.

“Ho! We’re looking for Master Neloth. Can either of you point us in the right direction?” The two elves paused and blinked stupidly at Aerik for a moment before the boy spoke up.

“Center tower. But, you should know, he doesn’t like to be disturbed…”

“Thank you kindly!” Aerik interrupted, waving as he made his way towards the largest mushroom, Teldryn following closely behind.

“Can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like this before… it’s amazing! Were these common in Morrowind?”

“Not terribly, but they weren’t necessarily _un_ common either. They were only used by House Telvanni, the stuck up bastards. Never told anyone how they managed to do it either,” Teldryn grumbled as they ascended the earthen ramp that lead to the main tower.

“I don’t get the houses thing… is it like how Skyrim has Jarls?”

“That, my friend, is a long and boring conversation.”

“I love long and boring conversations,” Aerik grinned over his shoulder, pushing open the door to the tower. Teldryn smirked to himself, knowing what was next.

 

“WHOA…” came Aeriks shocked cry as the magical energy lifted him off the ground, floating him up into the lofts of the tower. His laughter echoed all the way up. With a sigh, Teldryn jumped into the flow next, enjoying this part despite himself. He landed delicately behind Aerik on the platform, the Nord grinning like an idiot at him before turning around to address the Great Telvanni Wizard himself. Neloth eyed them warily, dispelling the magic he was in the midst of casting and crossing his arms as Aerik approached him.

“I don’t recall inviting you into my tower. I do hope you make this worth my while,” he sneered. His eyes drifted over to Teldryn as the mer pulled down his face scarf and took his helmet off. The sneer promptly dropped from his face.

“Ah… well, to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from _The Great Teldryn Sero_ of the Morag Tong?” he nearly spat as if Teldryn’s name tasted foul on his tongue. “You’re not here to kill me, are you?”

“If I were here to kill you, Neloth, you’d already be dead,” Tedlryn shot back, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the banister behind him. “I’m simply here with the Dragonborn.” He nudged his head towards Aerik and Neloth’s deep red eyes scanned the man up and down.

“So this is the Dragonborn of our age? Hmm… a Nord. How boring and predictable,” he scoffed. Teldryn expected Aerik to correct him, but the man said nothing.

“I hear you know a thing or two about Black Books,” Aerik said instead. Neloth did seem to perk up at that.

“If by Black Books you mean the tomes of esoteric knowledge that old Hermaeus Mora scattered throughout the world? Yes, in fact, I know _quite_ a bit about those. Why on Nirn would you be asking after one?”

 

The color had drained from Aerik’s face.

“Those books… are of Hermaeus Mora? The _Daedric Prince_ Hermaeus Mora?” Aerik sputtered, procuring a laugh from Neloth and a sinking feeling in the pit of Teldryn’s stomach.

“You’ve found one, haven’t you? And you read it, too, didn’t you? Don’t try to deny it; you’ve got the _look_. I can see it now…” the wizard stepped forward, grabbing Aerik’s jaw and studying him like a specimen. Teldryn’s sword arm twitched reflexively, but otherwise he held his position. Neltoh stepped back, leaving a pallid Aerik looking even more confused and troubled.

“They’re dangerous things, but I’m sure you’ve already discovered that. However, dangerous knowledge is still knowledge and therefore useful,” he monologued, crossing his hands behind his back and striding to the table that sat in the back left corner. “Usually turns out to be the most useful kind of knowledge, in my experience.”

“I’m not trying to… learn Hermaeus Mora’s arcane secrets,” Aerik finally spoke, sounding mildly offended, vigor returning to his stance and voice. “These books are tied to the return of Miraak. I need to find more so I can stop him.”

“Miraak?” Neltoh turned around to study him again, placing one hand on the table at his side. “The one all the townsfolk are always chanting about?” He rubbed his pointed beard thoughtfully. “That would make sense… I knew something connected to Hermaeus Mora was slowly spreading its influence across the island.”

“So can you help me find another Black Book or not?” Aerik all but growled, and Teldryn couldn’t help but smirk. The smug bastard was even getting under the happy-go-lucky Bard’s skin.

“Oh yes. They’re not hard to find once you know how to look for them. I have one here that I’ve been using to locate more.”

“Wait… you have one _here_? In this mushroom?”

“It’s a _Telvanni Tower_ , and yes, but, before you ask, no, I don’t think it’s what you’re looking for. I’m quite certain it is unconnected with this… Miraak. No, there is another book, however, that I’m confident is the book you seek. The only problem is that I’ve been unable to get to it. The Dwemer were quite a tricky race… they never gave up their treasures easily…”

 

“Wait, wait, wait…” Aerik waved his hand, his face scrunching in confusion and frustration. “You’re gonna have to slow down. So you have a book here, but its not one I need… but the Dwemer have a book as well… and it… is the one I need? How can you be so certain?” Neloth huffed petulantly, turning his back on the two to face the table. He placed his hands on either side of what appeared to be a map of some kind.

“I have been studying the Black Books for a long time, boy. I know what I’m dealing with. The one that remains out of my reach is in the Dwemer ruins of Nchardak. As I said, the Dwemer were terribly clever, and did not like to share. The book is sealed in a protective case, which I wasn’t able to open. But perhaps…” he seemed to look off into the distance, lost in some train of thought. He wheeled back around to look at Aerik. “If you really _are_ the Dragonborn, then perhaps you will be able to help me access the book. I suppose, one could say, if you… scratch my back, I shall then scratch yours.” The colloquialism seemed to offend Neloth’s sensibilities even as it came out of his own mouth.

“And how do I know I can trust you? How do I know you won’t just use me to get the book and then betray me? For all I know you could be an agent of Hermaeus Mora,” Aerik demanded, earning a look of mild annoyance from Neloth.

“Hermaeus Mora has given me much knowledge, for which I am thankful, but I do _not_ bow to him,” he spat, as if it were obvious. “Additionally, I’m sure if I even stepped one toe out of line, your little watch dog there would take great pleasure in running me through with his sword.” Neloth made a sweeping gesture at Teldryn, who smirked and nodded in response. Aerik looked back at him with concern in his eyes. Teldryn simply shrugged.

“It’s true. I would rather enjoy that,” he admitted, reveling in the way the corners of Aerik’s mouth twitched into a reluctant smile. He turned back to Neloth.

“Alright. I’ll help you get the book. But you have to give me your word that you will let me use it to defeat Miraak before taking it for yourself.” He extended his hand for a shake, and Neloth rolled his eyes so hard Teldryn expected them to fall out of his head.

“Fine,” the wizard drawled, taking Aerik’s hand in his own for one, firm shake. “You have my word. Now, can we get a move on?”

 

\---

 

Neloth didn’t mention that Nchardak was half underwater. Teldryn cursed the damn wizard for the twentieth time that day as he and Aerik stealthily approached the front steps leading up to the massive structures.

“It looks like we’re going to have to take care of some Reavers first,” Aerik mumbled. Neloth was a few paces behind them, showing no attempt at stealth.

“More of an inconvenience than anything,” he sighed, sounding put out. “Shall we get on with it?”

 

Between the three of them, the Reavers stood no chance. Teldryn couldn’t help but notice the way Neloth’s eyes narrowed at Aerik’s skilled use of magic. He knew the wizard had expected the normal Nord buffoonery of slash and hack with some great war axe of Ysgamor, not the lithe, stealthy movements and pin-point accuracy of a spellsword. It gave him a smug sense of satisfaction and an odd pull of pride. After the last Reaver fell, the three of them approached a massive set of doors at the farthest tower, nearly out in the middle of the water.

 

“The Dwemer of Nchardak appear to have been fond of these control pedestals,” Neloth lectured, gesturing to a small contraption to the left of the door. “Luckily I found a cube to operate it inside on my last visit.” He pulled an odd, glowing device out of one of the inner pockets of his robes and set it on top of the pedestal. The thing began to whir and hum as the bars blocking the doors slid away to allow them access.

“A word of warning before we enter,” Neloth interjected just as Aerik had reached a hand out to push the doors open. “There are still quite a few spiders, spheres, and possibly even centurions left inside that are very much active. Prepare for a fight.”

“Not a problem,” Aerik replied, smiling devilishly as he pushed the massive metal doors open.

 

The reading room was a large, domed space and, just as Neloth had said, contained a Black Book that was sealed inside a glass chamber in the center of the floor.

“So tantalizingly close…” Neloth lamented, walking around the book like a buzzard circling a fresh carcass. “But trust me, no magic will open that. I’d already have the book if it could. No, we’ll have to do this the hard way.” He began to stride towards the back of the room where another pedestal sat next to a set of doors.

“If we can restore the steam supply to this room, I’m certain I can open it.”

“Restore the steam supply?” Aerik scoffed. “This place is nearly submerged under water. How would we even go about…”

“Follow me,” Neloth cut him off, placing the cube in the pedestal and opening the new set of doors, which lead to a tower elevator. Teldryn sighed, loosening up his shoulders. Down they go.

 

\---

 

Navigating the Dwarven ruins was utterly exhausting. Spider after sphere after spider after sphere and Teldryn was rapidly losing his 'abundance' of patience. Even Aerik seemed to lose his luster after the tenth or eleventh automaton they had to dispatch. The ever-changing water levels were also grueling, nearly impossible to predict or control. Teldryn was soaked to the bone and incredibly grumpy after the final pedestal had been activated and the confounded puzzle had been solved.

 

Then the Centurian woke up.

 

Teldryn expected Aerik to light up like he usually did during battle, but the Nord almost immediately turned to using his dragon shout to defeat the thing, engulfing it in flames before promptly shocking it lifeless with his magicka. The look on Neloth’s face was almost worth the entire affair. The Telvanni wizard stood slack-jawed as the Centurion toppled, the Dragonborn only looking mildly inconvenienced.

“Well…” Neloth began, brushing off his robes needlessly. “It appears you’re more powerful than I originally anticipated. Quite a pleasant surprise, if I’m honest. Shall we continue?”

 

They adjusted the pedestals accordingly and made their way back to the steam room in solemn, if not indignant silence. Once back in the main chamber, Aerik made his way over to the control button, pressing it impatiently. The glass vault slid open, elevating the Black Book up to waist level. Teldryn glanced to Aerik, who met his gaze with a grim expression.

“Ah, at last,” Neloth whispered, slowly approaching the book.

“Wait,” Aerik called, walking to blockhis path. “I need to read it first.” Neloth narrowed his eyes, hesitating only for a moment, before moving to the side.

“Of course,” he nearly bowed. “As promised.”

“Aerik,” Teldryn began, stepping forward to put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Please… be careful,” he stumbled, feeling quite foolish all of a sudden. Aerik smiled warmly at him, putting his own hand on the mer’s shoulder.

“I will, my friend. But it has to be done.”

 

Teldryn watched with a stomach full of lead as Aerik reached out and picked up the Black Book, breathing in deeply once before cracking the spine.

“Be sure to say hello to old Hemaeus Mora for me, if you see him,” Neloth smirked, watching Aerik become engulfed by sickly green, writhing tentacles as if it were an every day occurrence. Teldryn looked on with horror once again as Aerik became stationary, hovering in mid air, eyes glazed and wide as he peered sightlessly into the arcane tome.

 

“Well,” Neloth sighed. “He’ll probably be like that for a while. I do have to admit, I’m a bit jealous that he gets to read the text first.”

“You’re insane,” Teldryn spat, choosing to take a seat fairly close to where Aerik hovered. “But of course, I already knew that. It’s no surprise you’ve gone and entangled yourself in Daedric affairs.”

“Ah, so bitter, even after all these years. So tell me, Teldryn Sero… how is it that you’ve found yourself stooping so low as to become a mercenary for hire? And just how long have you been slinking around Solstheim?”

“I’ve been here for years, you insolent old coot.”

“Old? You’re one to talk,” Neloth scoffed, taking a seat on the opposite side of the room.

“And as for my profession, I’d kindly thank you to stay out of my personal affairs.”

“Hmm… quite. And _how_ personal all these affairs exactly? You seem quite attached to that… Dragonborn there.”

 

Teldryn’s eyes narrowed, but he otherwise showed no outward reaction to the statement.

“He is my employer. I’d like to think I’m rather attached to him,” he replied coldly. Neloth smirked.

“You’ve always been a terrible liar, Sero,” Neloth tutted. “No doubt a man of his… status can pay rather well, though. I have to admit, when you first mentioned him being Dragonborn I most certainly underestimated just how _accurate_ the prophecies were. That… shout of his. Quite impressive. I dare say I’m slightly envious of such power…”

“It’s always about the power with you,” Teldryn grumbled, shifting slightly to lean more comfortably against the wall. His gaze fell on Aerik once more before he reached up to remove his helmet. He caught Neloth’s eye as he did so.

“I have to say, I never thought I’d see you again,” the wizard mused, sounding bored.

“My apologies,” Teldryn replied icily. Neloth did laugh at that, albeit dryly.

“Yes, well, can’t say it’s been a terribly pleasant experience thus far. But the circumstances are quite fascinating.”

“Mmhm, utterly riveting… Solstheim falling under mind control of a powerful, thought-to-be-dead madman and all that.”

 

Neloth huffed, finally taking the hint that Teldryn wasn’t exactly up for idle chat. He pulled a small notebook out of his robes and what looked to be an enchanted quill and began to scribble down notes, occasionally glancing up at Aerik. Teldryn ran a hand through his hair, trying his best to calm his nerves and not constantly look to check on the Nord hovering mere feet away from him. He finally decided to close his eyes, letting his head fall back against the carved stone wall. They sat in silence for a long while, the only sounds were that of a quill against parchment and a low, eerie hum emanating from the Book. His thoughts wandered to and fro: from Morrowind and his old home, to Windhelm and the bitter cold of Skyrim. His thoughts, of course, found their way back to Aerik, the blasted man. Teldryn sighed loudly, opening his eyes to check on him, despite himself. He remained unmoving.

 

“I told you, he’d probably be like that for a while,” Neloth commented without looking up from his journal. “Apocrypha is not an easy realm to navigate. If he were a lesser man he would probably very much end up trapped there.”

“And just how many times have you visited Mora’s realm?” Teldryn couldn’t help but ask. Neloth seemed to think for a moment, tapping the quill against his chin.

“At least three or four times. I try to limit myself to only twice a year. Those things _will_ drive you mad…”

“Twice a… year…??” Teldryn sputtered, getting to his feet. “Aerik has read two of those damn books in two days!”

“Yes, well,” Neloth chuckled darkly. “I do hope he survives.”

 

As if on cue, the tentacles abruptly sucked themselves back into the book and Teldryn had just enough time to lunge forward and catch Aerik before he dropped. Even Neloth got to his feet, walking briskly over to the pair.

“What happened? What did you see? Different people have very different experiences when reading these books. Tell me _everything_.”

“Will you piss off and give the man some time?” Teldryn hissed, trying to help Aerik stand as he slowly regained consciousness. The Nord blinked blearily at his surroundings, holding his head in one hand as he attempted to right himself.

“I…. saw Hermaeus Mora. He spoke to me…” Aerik began to explain, leaning heavily against Teldryn. “He taught me the second word of power to defeat Miraak. But…” He scrubbed his hands over his face, scrunching up his features. “He says there’s still a third word I need to learn. And he won’t give it to me without giving him something in return.”

“What on Nirn could Old Mora want from you?” Neloth scoffed.

“Not me,” Aerik shook his head, standing more steadily on his own. Teldryn kept one hand on the man’s low back, but tried to keep the gesture out of Neloth’s line of sight.

“The Skaal… he wants whatever secrets they’ve been keeping from him.”

“Hah! What secrets could they have worth keeping from old Mora?” Neloth laughed. “Sounds like a bargain to me. Hermaeus Mora learns some fascinating new ways to skin a horker, and you become the second most powerful Dragonborn that ever lived.”

 

Aerik looked to Teldryn, face stricken with anguish.

“I do not want to betray them,” he said quietly, only to his companion.

“They swore to help you,” Teldryn countered. “They will understand.”

“Well this is all very touching, but this has given me a lot to think about. I need to get back to Tel Mithryn. I have some ideas about how to locate more of these Black Books…” Neloth seemed to mutter to himself as he began to stride towards the entrance. Aerik carefully slid the thick book into his pack, hands shaking. He nearly tripped as they moved to leave.

“Careful…” Teldryn mumbled, forcing the Nord to put an arm around his shoulder. Aerik leaned heavily into him and Teldryn set his mouth into a grim line.

“Neloth…” he called out, already hating himself for doing so. The Telvanni wizard turned sharply, looking mildly annoyed at the interruption.

“We cannot make it all the way to the Skaal village tonight… nor back to Raven Rock,” Teldryn gritted out. “Is there… some way, in your _infinite generosity_ , you might be able to provide us with shelter for the night? Aerik needs to rest.” The smirk that Neloth gave him made Teldryn want to rip his jaw off.

“My, my, I don’t recall you ever being so… humble,” Neloth mocked. He ground his own teeth together and felt Aerik tense angrily beside him. “But I don’t see why not. You can use my steward’s quarters for the evening. I’m sure they won’t mind being bedless for a night.” He turned and continued to stride haughtily out of the chamber.

“Thanks,” Aerik said quietly to Teldryn as the walked side by side, making their way back into the fading light of Solstheim.

 

The journey back to Tel Mithryn was slow for the Dunmer and the Dragonborn. Neloth had traveled on ahead, unworried by their sluggish pace.

“Not too much farther, sera,” Teldryn encouraged. He no longer needed to support Aerik, but the Nord was easily winded.

“Wait…” Aerik stopped abruptly, looking down to the waterline. He had noticed one of the standing stones, smatterings of people milling around it, toiling endlessly. The Sun Stone. Teldryn felt a mixture of anger and panic as the stupid man started walking towards it.

“It will still be there tomorrow!” he yelled, trotting after his patron.

“Those people don’t deserve to go another day under Miraak’s control,” Aerik argued, his mind already made up. Teldryn let out a frustrated cry, throwing his hands up.

“Fine! But I swear to Azura, Aerik, I am _not_ lugging your corpse back to Tel Mithryn!”

 

The same beast appeared after Aerik loosed his shout on the stone. The scrambling crowd tripped and stumbled over one another to get out of the thing’s way, leaving them little aid for a proper fight. Teldryn was physically and mentally exhausted, but summoned his atronach to help alleviate some of the responsibility. Aerik fought with a renewed sense of vigor, ducking and dodging, slicing and shocking the thing relentlessly. It bellowed and gargled, creating poisonous fields of tentacles wherever it stepped. With the last of his energy, Teldryn managed to tuck and roll behind it, slicing a deep cut into the backs of its knees, bringing it down to allow Aerik to deliver the final blow to its head, driving his elven sword deep between the thing’s wide-set eyes.

 

After the beast fell, the two stood and looked at each other for a long moment, both breathing heavily. The air seemed to crackle with energy between them, as it always did when they fought so perfectly in tandem. Finally Aerik jerked his head towards the large mushroom towers that stood just up the hill. They wordlessly began their final trek of the evening, soggy and weary to the bone.

 

 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I love to hate Neloth. He's probably one of my all time favorite characters next to Teldryn. Such a pretentious grump.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> I'm sure you all have probably noticed at this point that I don't like to really narrate gameplay, but I do use a lot of direct dialogue from the game. We're all here because (I'd like to think) we've all played the game... I don't need to tell you what it's like to fight Dwarven Spiders. I'd much rather illustrate the liminal spaces and character interactions. Hopefully that translates well.
> 
> Until next week!


	8. A Dance in Fire, v 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Explicit sexual content ahead 
> 
> *confetti*

_“…There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.”_   
_―_ **Homer, ** **_The Iliad_ **

 

\---

 

The courtyard was empty when they finally arrived, save for one of the young Dunmer they had encountered there earlier that day. She approached them with a tight smile.

“Master Neloth told me to wait for your arrival. I’ll show you to the quarters,” she bowed slightly. Aerik offered her a rueful smile.

“Sorry to be kicking you out for the evening.”

“Oh it’s not a problem. I don’t sleep much anyways,” the Dunmer replied, causing Teldryn to quirk and eyebrow.

“What’s your name, friend?” Aerik asked as the mer lead them up a short flight of steps to a somewhat smaller, squatter mushroom tower.

“Varona,” she replied curtly. “I’m Master Neloth’s steward.”

“Well, thank you for your hospitality, Varona. We’ll try not to trash the place,” Aerik laughed, giving Teldryn a tired wink. The merc rolled his eyes behind his helmet.

 

Varona took her leave quickly, letting the round door swing silently shut behind her as she left. The steward’s house was a simple, one-room chamber that had the same porous walls as Neloth’s tower. It was lined with shelves and tables, all packed with various books, wine bottles, alchemical ingredients, lit candles, and the like. And, of course, there was only one, small bed. Teldryn sighed, content to spend the night on the floor.

“Take the bed, ser,” he offered, striding sluggishly over to one of the small wooden chairs that sat near the metal fire pit. It burned lowly, in need of a new log. He sat down harder than he intended, letting out a grunt as he landed. Aerik moved slowly over to the bed, sitting down in very much the same fashion. They each sat in silence for a moment, simply staring out into space. Teldryn reached up to remove his helmet, letting it thunk to the floor beside him, followed by his heavy bracers. His arms already felt ten times lighter having them gone. His boots followed next. The legs of his pants were soaked through but Teldryn just couldn’t be bothered to change into his spares just yet. He glanced over at Aerik to see that the man hadn’t moved from his original position, still fully clad in armor and looking completely lost.

 

Without speaking, Teldryn got to his feet and padded over to stand in front of the Nord, who didn’t visually acknowledge his presence. Carefully, the Dunmer lifted the simple hide helmet off the man’s head, noticing for the first time how it glimmered with enchantment.

“Thanks,” Aerik mumbled numbly, tired golden eyes dragging upwards to meet Teldryn’s. “I’m so damn tired, but I don’t think I can sleep…”

“It is still light out,” Teldryn pointed out, setting the helmet down on the bedside table. “You don’t have to sleep just yet.” He bent to one knee and began sliding one of Aerik’s bracers off. Aerik laughed weakly, breathy and tired.

“Do you do this for all your patrons?” he asked, giving Teldryn pause as he set the bracer down by the helmet. He didn’t look up at the man in front of him, remaining still, thinking.

“No,” he said finally, reaching up to remove the second bracer, still avoiding eye contact.

“So I’m not imagining it then…”

“Imagining what, exactly?”

“This…” Aerik gestured with his free hand between the two of them. “…thing between us.”

 

Teldryn did look up at him then. The Nord’s expression was stony, but his eyes glimmered with concealed emotion. Hope, maybe?

“I… suppose you’re not,” he said carefully, setting Aerik’s second bracer down with the first. A beat of silence passed between them in which Teldryn’s pulse pounded in his ears. The sensible side of him was chanting _bad idea, bad idea_ over and over, but then Aerik brushed his long, calloused fingers over the top of Teldryn’s hand, still resting on the Nord’s knee. Aerik was leaning forward.

 

Their lips met tentatively and Teldryn let out a long sigh, only just realizing that he had been holding his breath. Aerik’s warm hands quickly moved to cup the sides of his face, thumbs trailing over his sharp cheekbones and down his jaw, fingertips scratching through the short, coarse hair of his beard. The kiss was startlingly tender, their combined exhaustion giving way to unhurried exploration. As Aerik’s soft mouth yielded to Teldryn’s, the Dunmer felt heat pooling into his stomach, blood coursing through his body with a renewed vigor. He began to stand, pushing Aerik back to lie horizontally against the bed, the Nord’s head almost hanging off the other side, the tip of his long braid sweeping the floor. Teldryn pressed his weight down onto the man under him, wrapping an arm around his waist, the other hand cupping the back of Aerik’s neck as their need escalated. The studs of the hide armor pressed uncomfortably into Teldryn’s torso as the man beneath him let out a long, low groan and arched up, one warm hand sweeping down Teldryn’s back only to snake its way back up beneath his thin shirt.

 

Teldryn broke away from Aerik’s mouth, scraping his teeth against the stubble of the man’s jaw and placing a wet, laving kiss in the hollow behind his ear. This earned him a delicious, stuttering gasp and the sensation of short, stubby nails digging into his back as he continued to work his way down the Nord’s sinewy neck.

“Tel…” Aerik barely whispered the beginnings of his name before he was interrupted by a disturbingly loud growl coming from the Nord’s stomach. Teldryn paused, glancing sideways bemusedly. Aerik looked halfway between frustrated and incredibly amused.

“I think you may be a bit hungry,” Teldryn suggested, and Aerik threw his head back, laughing openly.

“I honestly wish I could say this is the first time my stomach has interrupted these kinds of events, but it would be a lie.”

 

Teldryn pushed off the bed, getting to his feet, grinning shamelessly. As Aerik sat up, it put him more or less at eye level with Teldryn’s groin.

“Well,” the Nord quirked an eyebrow, eyeing the bulge in the merc’s pants. “I’m glad to see that had a strong affect on you.”

“I’d have to be a eunuch for it to have not,” Teldryn scoffed, turning away just as Aerik was reaching a hand out.

“Tease,” he mumbled, unbuckling his armor and pulling it up over his head to join his bracers on the floor.

 

They ate some of their rations quickly, exchanging joking banter between bites. Their brief encounter had given them both a second wind, one that seemed to be strengthening with anticipation. Aerik had barely finished chewing his last piece of bread before he was sliding out of his chair and across the floor to kneel in front of Teldryn’s chair, dragging the man’s head down for another kiss.

“Mmph!” the Dunmer protested, pushing him away lightly. “Finish chewing, damn it.”

“Sorry,” Aerik breathed, pressing his lips against Teldryn’s neck as he managed to gulp down the last of his bite. “I’ve just been thinking about getting my hands all over you since I first saw your face…” He pressed a kiss against his pulse.

“Well…” Teldryn didn’t quite know what to say to that. He sat his tankard down and took Aerik’s face in his hands, studying the man’s features for a moment. “You have my permission to do so, but try to finish your food first. I don’t want you to choke.” Aerik grinned wolfishly, running his hands up Teldryn’s thighs and craning his neck up for another kiss.

“Mmm… speaking of choking…” he rumbled against Teldryn’s mouth, hand moving across his thigh to brush against the growing bulge in his pants. This caused the dark elf to sputter a bit. Aerik laughed, pulling back and getting to his feet, beginning to walk backwards over towards the bed. Teldryn followed him hastily, unable to keep the devilish smile off his face.

 

He grabbed onto Aerik’s hips, unused to having a partner taller than him, tilting his head back to press his own parted lips against the man’s. Aerik kissed back, unhurried, sliding his hands across Teldryn’s back before tugging at the hem of his under shirt. Leaning back, Teldryn allowed Aerik to pull his shirt over his head, and smirked at the hungry look the man had in his eyes. He brushed his hands over Teldryn’s shoulders and across his chest, tracing the jagged tattoos he could reach with his fingertips. He leaned in to press a kiss to Teldryn’s shoulder, slowly working his mouth lower, bending to his knees to press his lips across the mer’s taut stomach, his hands hovering at the waistline of his pants.

 

Aerik looked upwards, as if asking for permission, golden eyes large and imploring, lips wet and gently swollen. Teldryn bit his own lower lip, reveling in the sight. He wove his fingers into Aerik’s braided hair and nodded slowly. The man quickly pulled the fabric down and away, allowing Teldryn’s erection to spring free. Aerik let out a low, hungry groan, before grasping it firmly at the base and taking it into his mouth. Teldryn doubled forward, inhaling sharply.

“Fuck…” he growled lowly through clenched teeth as Aerik torturously worked his mouth around his cock, using his hand to pump in tandem. Aerik moved like a barely tamed animal, all brawny muscle and bridled energy, giving the illusion of control but still feral below the surface. Teldryn tightened his grip on the Nord’s hair instinctively. The intensity made him want to close his eyes, but he didn’t want to miss a single moment of Aerik pleasuring him. The way the man would slowly pull away, circling his tongue around the head, before sheathing him completely into his mouth, cock hitting the back of his throat… Teldryn felt himself near the edge.

 

“Aerik… wait,” he rasped, voice low and hoarse, wrung out with desire. Aerik pulled off his dick with a wet pop, looking up at the mer and licking his lips. A smirk played at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not ready… and if you keep that up, I won’t last…” he explained as delicately as he could, letting one of his hands caress the side of Aerik’s face. He couldn’t stop himself, though, and pressed one of his thumbs back into Aerik’s mouth, groaning at the silkiness of the man’s tongue. Aerik accepted it like a gift, like sucking on a piece of candy, eyes closed and humming contentedly.

"If you insist,” he agreed, finally, after Teldryn pulled his hand away.

 

The Nord got to his feet and Teldryn pressed him firmly down onto the bed, laying him back against the mattress. He pulled impatiently at the man’s pants, flinging them somewhere off to the side to be forgotten. Teldryn eyed Aerik’s swollen cock with a hunger that felt foreign to him. The man had _length_ , and damn it if he didn’t know which side of Aerik’s heritage blessed him with that fortunate endowment. Teldryn was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to fit the majority of it in his mouth, nor had he ever been the biggest fan of performing that particular task, but that didn’t stop him from climbing onto the bed and bending over to lick a long stripe up the underside of Aerik’s cock. The man let out a breathy shout at the attention, but Teldryn continued to work his way up the Nord’s body, licking and biting along the hard lines of muscle and dappled scars as he went. He had been told that he was an aggressive lover in the past, but given the opportunity to bed another warrior, Teldryn found little reason to hold back.

 

Aerik’s back arched like drawing a bow, his hands roaming endlessly across Teldryn’s body as the elf moved upwards to claim his mouth, grinding their hips together. Aerik grabbed fistfuls of his dark hair as he did, wringing a wanton groan out of Teldryn’s throat at the pressure on his scalp. Reaching between them he grabbed both of their erections in his hand, squeezing them together firmly. Aerik let out a hoarse shout follow by a low whine, one that Teldryn very much wanted to hear again. He stroked them both dry, long and firm, gone all gentleness from before.

 

Teldryn fucked like he fought: with diligence and efficiency, cataloging useful things that he might be able to use later or possibly to his advantage. The way Aerik writhed beneath him, breathing hot and low in his ear, arching into his touch and hard as steel beneath his hand… all the details of the man’s reactions were being stored away. He spit into his hand impatiently before returning to his frenzied pace. Teldryn was trying his best to ride the edge, keep the two of them just outside of the reach of climax to make the moment last as long as it could. Their precum mingled, slicking his hand and heightening his movements. Aerik was beginning to buck into his grip, eager and needy. Teldryn felt his resolve slipping, and all it took was a gentle nip at his sensitive ears and a well placed moan from the Nord for him to quicken his pace, only to fall over the edge near immediately, spilling onto Aerik’s chest and stomach with a wordless shout. The man was quick to follow suit, moving to grip the sides of Teldryn’s face, pressing their foreheads together hard as he shuddered and came in Teldryn's hand, gasping the Dunmer’s name as he bucked against him.

 

Teldryn fell forward, letting his full weight down on Aerik. They panted heavily, both reeling from their orgasms.

“Well…” Aerik finally spoke, voice gravely and low. “Personally, I’m glad we did that sooner rather than later.” Maybe it was the haze of their coitus, but Teldryn laughed openly and honestly into Aerik’s chest.

“I know that this…” he began, still catching his breath. “…was probably an incredibly poor decision. But I can’t seem to find the will to care at the moment.” He looked up into Aerik’s eyes to see them practically glittering with mirth. The sweat they had worked up was rapidly beginning to cool, leaving Teldryn feeling a bit chilled. He pressed himself up off the bed, making a face at the mess they had made between them.

“I’ll get something to clean us up,” he offered, slowly pulling himself away from the warm body beneath him.

“No rush, I hear its good for the skin,” Aerik chuckled, tucking his hands behind his head to form a pillow. In that moment, for whatever reason, the man looked particularly elfish, his Altmer heritage shining through. Maybe it was the utter brashness, or the completely lack of self-consciousness at his nakedness. Whatever it was, it made Teldryn’s heart burn for the strange creature that lay before him.

“That… is quite disgusting, you know,” Teldryn laughed, grabbing an old shirt from his pack and cleaning himself off before tossing it to Aerik.

 

After the exhilaration of their encounter began to settle, Teldryn felt the weight of what they had just done begin to press down on him. He changed into his spare pants in a rather solemn silence as Aerik lounged in repose on the bed.

“Hey,” the Nord finally spoke up. “I can hear you thinking from over here. What’s going through that handsome head of yours?”

“Handsome, now, is it?” Teldryn deflected. Aerik sat up, his brow creasing.

“Listen, that was very nice. And if I’m honest, I want to do it again. Many more times. In many different ways,” he confessed, grinning lecherously. “But… I don’t want this to… strain anything. If you’d rather this be a one time thing…”  

“I would very much dislike that,” Teldryn sighed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he looked into the dying embers of the fire. “It’s just… given the circumstances, I know its… _best_ not to form emotional attachments. In fact, it’s dangerous.”

“Yes…” Aerik sounded thoroughly chastised, sitting up and swinging his legs off the side of the bed. “I know. I _knew_ , I mean. I made an informed decision.”

“As did I,” Teldryn nodded, turning to face the man again.

“So…” Aerik prompted, looking nervous.

“So, going forward, we have to make a concerted effort not to let _this_ affect our decision-making. You have a tremendous task set out before you, and I have sworn myself to your service.”

 

Aerik seemed to roll the words around in his head for a moment, hunching over to rest his elbows on his knees, still unapologetically naked.

“Does this mean we don’t share the bed tonight?”

“I’m pretty sure I still have some of your cum in my belly button, _sera_. We can share the damned bed,” Teldryn laughed. Aerik beamed.

“I like when you use formalities and the word ‘cum’ in the same sentence,” he chirped, standing up. “Where did you throw my pants?”

 

The bed was too small for them to sleep comfortably on it together. In the end, they decided to push their bedrolls together and drag all the furs onto the floor. Teldryn went around and hastily snuffed out the candles that lined the room as Aerik shuffled around, creating their makeshift nest for the evening. With one final stoke to the fire, Teldryn moved to settle in next to the Nord.

“Mmm…” Aerik made an appreciative sound as Teldryn lowered himself down. “I don’t have to worry about embarrassing myself tonight.”

“What a relief for you, I’m sure.”

“It is,” Aerik grinned as Teldryn lay back, quickly moving to put and arm around the mer’s chest. “I don’t want to stop touching you.”

“Hmm,” Teldryn nodded sleepily. “Then don’t.”

 

They kissed lazily for a while longer, the last of their energies draining away. Aerik had let his hair down and Teldryn couldn’t help but run his fingers through it, brushing it away from the man’s face as he hovered over top of him, his forearms resting on either side of the Dunmer’s head. After a moment Aerik settled down, resting his head against Teldryn’s shoulder and entangling their legs, one arm draped heavily over his chest.

 

It was then that the surreal nature of the situation hit Teldryn like a charging mammoth. He felt Aerik’s breathing become slower and deeper while his own eyes remained wide open, staring at the dimly lit ceiling. _What on Nirn am I doing?_ Panic crept in slowly, insidiously, and then all at once. His face felt cold, and Teldryn was awash with the feeling of making an incredible, irrevocable mistake.

 

The weight of Aerik’s arm felt oppressive, constrictive – he felt trapped. Teldryn forced himself to close his eyes, taking slow, steadying breaths. He felt the tickle of the Nord’s own breath against his neck. It was a slow, rhythmic reminder of the decision he had made. Teldryn’s mind flitted about wildly, oddly enough landing among memories of his early days training with the Morag Tong. The voice of his teacher rang through his mind, her voice as clear as the day she said it and as sharp as the daggers she wielded.

 

_“When you inevitably find yourself in a situation in which you have lost control… you must_ lean _into that feeling. Embrace it. It’s useless to fight in these situations. A creature thrashing in a spider’s web will only draw the spider to them faster. A drowning mer will lash and rage against the water and they will sink faster. But to remain calm – to allow yourself room to feel the helplessness, the discomfort, the panic… you will also give yourself room to find a solution.”_

 

Teldryn let out a shaky breath. He allowed the panic to wash over him. He felt the fear of… of what, exactly? The possibilities of loss, of death, of commitment or failure? Promises he didn’t know how to keep, or love he didn’t know how to give? Or to receive, for that matter. He turned his head to the side, inhaling deeply the scent of Aerik’s hair. It was earthy, but sweet, like dried flower petals and moss. So he leaned in – into the panic, into the fear, into the unknown, but most of all, he leaned into Aerik, shifting his body to wrap and arm around the man beside him in return. Counting backwards from ten, he didn’t remember making it to five before sleep took him.

 

\---

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you, dear readers, but having the post-sex-panic-attack is NOT A FUN TIME. And we aren't all fortunate enough to have had stealth assassin training to help us deal with the feels.
> 
> Thanks for sticking around for another chapter! We're getting closer to Miraak O'Clock, which I'm pretty excited to write. So stay tuned, good people.


	9. 2920, Last Seed, v8

_“There is nothing alive more agonized than man / of all that breathe and crawl across the earth.”_  
**_― Homer,  The Iliad _ **

 

\---

 

Teldryn never woke up slowly, and this morning proved to be no different. Despite being in a windowless room, he could sense that dawn was approaching and his body demanded he get up. Carefully and quietly, he slid out from beneath Aerik’s arm that still lay draped across his chest and moved to the door, opening it silently and stepping outside. The sun was not quite up, but the sky radiated with reds and pinks. It was a brisk, chilly morning, the soft breeze stirring up chill bumps across his bare arms and chest. He glanced off to his right at the main Telvani tower. Regardless of the hospitality that had been provided, Teldryn had an intense desire to leave the grounds before the wizard awoke.

 

As he stepped back inside he was greeted with a sleepy Aerik, sitting upright and rubbing his eyes vigorously with the heels of his hands.

“How did you sleep?” Teldryn asked reflexively.

“Dreamlessly, thank the Divines,” Aerik responded, voice rough with sleep.

“That’s certainly an improvement.”

“Yes,” Aerik grinned. “Maybe we just need to make a habit out of our evening activity. It’s in the best interest of the Dragonborn, you see….”

“Oh, yes, of course. I strive to serve the Great Hero of Tamriel,” Teldryn rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself.

 

They dressed and ate relatively quickly, putting the room back in as much order as they had found it, before setting off for the Skaal village. Aerik was bouncing around and laughing like a young boy as they made their way across the ash wastes to the base of the mountains. Teldryn tried to play along as much as he could, but found his mind constantly turning inwards with anxiety. Fortunately, Aerik didn’t seem to notice.

 

“I believe if we take the path up to Miraak’s temple, there’s another standing stone near by,” Teldryn offered as Aerik chased wildly after a retreating ash hopper.

“Uhg…” Aerik scrunched his face up. “I don’t want to see that damn temple again… but if we must, then we must.” He sheathed his sword, the ash hopper leaping gratefully away from the pair.

“You should reserve your strength, sera,” Teldryn scolded, receiving a bubbling laugh from Aerik.

“My strength is fine, Tel. I just had to the first uninterrupted nights sleep I’ve had in days. I feel great!” He reached his arms up over his head, stretching indulgently. Teldryn shook his head, allowing a smile to briefly cross his lips at the ridiculous nickname he’d apparently been given.

“Well, onwards and upwards, then,” he exclaimed, intentionally using one of Aerik’s favorite phrases. The Nord beamed at him.

 

It took them the better half of an hour to wind their way back up the mountain and to Miraak’s temple, still populated by mindless droves of people picking and hammering away, mumbling to themselves.

“Stay low to the ground,” Aerik muttered as they approached. “I’d rather not have to deal with any of his damn cultists first thing in the morning.” They skirted the edge of the grounds, eyes sharp on the lookout for any masked figures. Teldryn gestured off and down to their right wordlessly, receiving a nod from Aerik, the man taking the lead. Once a decent distance away from the temple, Teldryn exhaled loudly. The approached the stone confidently, finally feeling prepared for the fight ahead.

 

No sooner had Aerik loosed his shout on the stone, a deafening roar ripped through the cold, quiet air. The shadow of a dragon passed across the freshly fallen snow.

 

Aerik and Teldryn looked to each other.

“Fuck…”

 

 

\---

 

 

By the time they reached the Skaal village, both man and mer were in pretty rough shape. Teldryn was sporting a particularly nasty gash across his torso, while Aerik’s right arm and neck were mottled with fresh burns. Miraak had also made another unwanted appearance to, once again, absorb the dragon’s soul before the current Dragonborn could, effectively killing Aerik’s good mood from earlier. They were hastily healing their wounds to the best of their abilities as they approached Storn. Frea leapt to her feet.

“Dragonborn! You are injured!” she pointed out needlessly.

“It’s fine. We’ll be fine…” Aerik assured, but didn’t stop the Skaal woman when she put her hands on his arm and began to use her own restoration magic to speed things along. Teldryn felt a sharp burning sensation in his chest, which he quickly recognized as jealousy, and extinguished the feeling as best he could. Aerik winced as his wounds slowly dried and closed up, smiling thinly at Frea.

“Thanks,” he offered, patting her hand that still rested on his bicep before stepping sideways to stand closer to Teldryn. He reached out and covered the mer’s chest wound with his hand, the other resting on his back directly behind the gash. His restoration magic was much stronger, now, than Teldryn's.

“Storn, I’m afraid I’m not exactly bringing good news today,” Aerik began, apparently choosing to multitask. “I found another one of the Black Books. They’re from Hermaeus Mora… and after reading this last one he told me directly that he wants to speak to you. He wants… some sort of secrets from your people.”

 

Frea looked horrified, but her father simply looked pensive.

“Hermaeus Mora…” he rumbled. “Old Herma-Mora himself. So he is the source of Miraak’s power. Of course.” Aerik exchanged a glance with Teldryn, who simply shrugged. His wounds were nearly completely healed, so he put a hand over Aerik’s.

“Thank you, sera,” he murmured. Aerik nodded, removing his hands and turning to face Storn.

“Herma-Mora has long tried to trick our people into giving up those tales which we have to carefully kept hidden from him. And now he returns to try again,” Storn exhaled loudly.

“He…” Aerik faltered, guilt marring his features. “He said it was the only way he would teach me the final word of power to defeat Miraak...”

“So…” Storn closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “It falls on me to decide whether to give up the secrets of the Skaal. I do not know if I have the strength to face him…”

“Believe me, sir, if there were any other way I would have already been trying to find it,” Aerik began fretfully, but Storn shook his head.

“You are but a pawn in his game, Dragonborn.”  
  
“Well I don’t like being _played_ with,” Aerik all but snarled, beginning to pace.

“Sera…” Teldryn tried, but there was no soothing the Nord.

 

“The land is still out of balance. Miraak still has control over the Stones… and our connection to the All-Maker is broken,” Storn continued, giving Aerik pause.

“If I finish restoring the Stones, will that help you?” he asked hopefully, fists still clenched fitfully at his sides. Storn inclined his head thoughtfully.

“It may. It should… And I will think on what you ask of me… to decide if it is necessary, or just another one of Herma-Mora’s tricks.”

 

Aerik turned to Teldryn, his eyes shining with anger and determination.

“What stones are left?”

“Aside from the one that Miraak’s temple is built around, I think the Water Stone is the only one we haven’t visited,” Teldryn supplied, looking briefly to Frea. “I’m less familiar with the location of that one.”

“It is…” Frea looked guilty. “It is on the opposite side of the island from our village, north of the Earth Stone… on the western coast.”

“Great, perfect, _wonderful_ ,” Aerik fumed, throwing his arms up and continuing his frustrated pacing.

“I can assist you, if you need…” Frea began, but Aerik cut her off with a wave of his hand.

“No, no… please. Stay here with your father. He needs you. Teldryn and I move quickly together. We’ll reach the Stone by dusk and try to make it back here by mid-morning tomorrow.”

“As… as you wish, Dragonborn,” Frea bowed, her face creased in worry. Aerik’s disposition softened.

“Listen, I know you want to help, and I really appreciate your offer...”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” she interrupted, shaking her head with a small smile. “Now go.”

 

Before they left, Frea gave them a small, hand-drawn map with a rough approximation of the location of the Water Stone. Aerik thanked her again, nodded solemnly to Storn, and the two of them were off.

“If we’re careful, we can try to cut a straight path through the mountains. Though we’ll probably have to deal with some Rieklings…”

“Some what?” Aerik interjected, screwing his face up at the unfamiliar word.

“Rieklings… they’re native to Solstheim. Small, gnomish little buggers. They’re like the Falmer, I suppose, but not nearly as reprehensible.”

“They sound adorable.”

“We’ll see if you still think so when you’re pulling one of their spears out of your ass,” Teldryn jeered.

 

The icy wind bit into their faces, blowing them backwards and slowing their progress. The landscape was as harsh and unforgiving as northern Skyrim. They spent much of their traveling in silence, giving Teldryn plenty of time to properly revisit all the anxiety that had been stirring around in his head. He watched Aerik fight his way through the snow just a few feet ahead of him as he replayed the previous night over and over again in his head. He was secretly thankful that the Dragonborn was hell-bent on focusing purely on the task at hand today, meaning they didn’t have to talk about their… _feelings_ , but it also left him with a sense of unease.

“I need to take a breath,” Aerik called over his shoulder, cheeks bright pink from the cold. Teldryn nodded, scanning their surroundings for some kind of cover.

“There’s a small overhang just up the way,” he yelled back over the wind gesturing up and to the left. “Should provide some respite.”

 

They wordlessly made their way to the small outcropping of rocks and ice, each sighing loudly as the wind abated around them and they were able to sit for a moment.

“This is the worst,” Aerik pouted, plopping down onto the ground and beginning to rummage through his satchel. He pulled out his waterskin, taking a long pull before handing it to Teldryn.

“Careful, it’s super cold. Almost gave me a headache,” he warned. The icy water was both refreshing and painful as Teldryn knocked a bit back, shaking his head to clear away the brain freeze that threatened to follow.

“How far away do you think we are?” Aerik interjected.

“At least another hour, if not more, depending on how much longer this blasted wind keeps up.”

“Fuck…” he groaned, resting his head in his hands. “I don’t want to have to fight another one of those nasty things. And then hike all the way back to Storn for him to say ‘sorry, not gonna give up our secrets, toodaloo’.”

“I seriously doubt that will be the case, sera,” Teldryn tried to reason.

“I’m just so… tired…” Aerik sighed. Teldryn moved to sit down beside him.

“I thought you were so well rested,” he jabbed, gently elbowing the Nord in the arm. Aerik shot him a sideways smile.

“Yeah, in theory I’m not _physically_ tired…” he leaned back against the rock wall. “And _in theory_ I do this kind of stuff all the time. But something about being jerked back and forth on this island, having to trek from one side to the next and kill the same kind of beast over and over… and especially knowing, on top of it all, I’m going to have to fight another Dragonborn at the end of the day is just… exhausting.”

 

Teldryn shifted his weight, reaching up to take off his helmet and lean back against the wall. He felt Aerik’s gaze on him.

“Well, I’m right behind you. Anywhere I can follow…” he offered, hoping it was the right thing to say. Aerik seemed to hesitate, his brow creased and tense.

“May I kiss you again?” he asked after a long moment. Teldryn couldn’t help the barking laugh that escaped.

“Yes, you idiot,” he chucked. Aerik brought a hand up to Teldryn’s face, the rough leather of the hide bracers coarse against his cold skin. He brought their faces a bit closer, hot breath steaming in the air between them. Teldryn rested a hand on Aerik’s hip as their lips met, cold and slightly chapped. The man let out a low hum of approval against Teldryn’s mouth, but otherwise kept things chaste.

“I feel better,” he rumbled as they pulled apart.

“You’re incorrigible…” Teldryn rasped with a laugh, his heart fluttering like a trapped moth. Aerik just smiled at him. They sat in silence for a moment, Aerik keeping one arm around Teldryn’s waist. After a few more long minutes had passed, the Nord sighed heavily.

“Shall we carry on then?”

Teldryn nodded, picking his helmet back up off the ground.

“Let’s go.”

 

 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg guys, there are only three more chapters left after this one.  
> I could have lumped this and the next one together, but it would have been an incredibly long chapter, so I split it into two.  
> (Plus the next one is kind of heavy, so I wanted a little lull in between).
> 
> Thank you SO much to those of you who are leaving such lovely comments!! They really mean the world to me. I'm trying to make this story the best I can, and y'all just keep on inspiring me to be better.
> 
> Onwards and upwards!


	10. Thief of Virtue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [CW: Sexually explicit scenes, implied mention of sexual trauma]

_“His descent was like nightfall.”_  
_―_ **Homer** ** **,**** _ ** The Iliad **_

\---

 

They reached the Water Stone after another hour and a half of travel. Their legs were sore and their eyes were stinging, but they managed to dispatch the beast surprisingly quickly. Aerik put one foot on top of the felled creature’s head in a casually triumphant pose as he looked up at the sky pensively.

“It’s not late enough to make camp, but it’s not early enough to try to make it to Raven Rock or even back to the Skaal…” he lamented, somewhat petulantly. “What should we do?” Teldryn surveyed their situation, watching the last of those freed from Miraak’s thrall trail off down the mountainside. He saw movement down by the water’s edge – the flickering of a campfire, the stealthy shadows of those who were trying to remain unseen. Reavers.

“Well…” Teldryn began. “I think there are some reavers down there who may try to take advantage of those good people. Would you like to go ruin their day?” he suggested with a sly smirk. Aerik grinned wolfishly.

“I like the sound of that.”

 

Aerik and Teldryn moved stealthily and near silently down the slope towards the waters edge, keeping an eye on the three reavers who were slowly stalking the small caravan of men and mer. Aerik readied his bow, Teldryn doing the same, smiling to himself at the warm sense of déjà vu that rippled through his mind. A scream from one of the women up ahead was the only cue they needed. Aerik stood upright, locking his bow onto one of the reavers before loosing an arrow, quickly beginning to draw a second. The first strike hit true, nailing the reaver in the center of her back, knocking her forward. Teldryn let his own arrow fly, his mark just shy of its target and embedded itself into the shoulder of one of the bulkier reavers. The hulking Dunmer snarled and wheeled on the two, his companion already drawing his bow to retaliate.

“You’ll regret this!” the larger mer yelled, thundering towards them with a massive elven warhammer in hand. Aerik let his second arrow fly, the steel tip sinking deeply into the opposite shoulder of the charging Dunmer. It barely seemed to slow him down. An iron arrow whizzed by Teldryn’s ear, causing him to stumble to the side. He hastily secured his bow to his back, his hands beginning to crackle with fiery energy as he called forth his magicka.

“Yeeargh!” the large mer cried as he attempted to bring his warhammer down onto Aerik, the half-elf proving to be too nimble for the Dunmer’s sluggish swing. He quickly tucked and rolled out of the way, throwing his bow to the ground and unsheathing his sword.

“You slimy n’wah!” the Dunmer snarled, heaving his warhammer up once more as he turned to follow Aerik’s movements. Teldryn was locked in a long-distance battled with the other reaver, dodging arrows while hurling fireballs. He saw Aerik scramble out of the way of another warhammer swing, dirt flying where the massive weapon cleaved into the ground. Thinking quickly, Teldryn lobbed a fireball at the large Dunmer attacking his friend, knocking the man to the side and distracting him enough to Aerik to land a fatal blow with his sword.

 

Bright pain erupted in Teldryn’s lower abdomen, causing him to cry out and stumble backwards. An iron arrow had managed to find its mark just below the line of his chitin armor, embedded deep in his stomach. Teldryn looked down at himself as if his body was not his own, an odd floating sensation occupying his mind. He snarled, hurling another round of fireballs at the reaver across the way. He heard Aerik yell angrily before charging the last reaver.

“ _FUS… RO DAH_!” came the bellowing thunderclap of a shout and Teldryn watched indifferently as the reaver flew backwards like a rag doll, neck snapping immediately and left arm torn clean off by the force of the shout, landing somewhere off to the side.

 

Aerik was by his side in an instant.

“You have to stop getting shot…” he said shakily, eyeing the arrow that protruded from Teldryn’s stomach with worry. “We need to get that out as fast as possible.” Teldryn allowed himself to be led over to the reaver’s campsite and leaned up against one of the spindly trees.

“Wait, wait…” Teldryn stopped the man as his hand came to grip the shaft of the arrow. “Grab me that mead over there…” he said, nodding his head towards the campfire. Aerik smiled sympathetically at him, walking over to grab the bottle and uncorked it with his teeth. Teldryn yanked down his face scarf and took a long drink, the alcohol numbing his mind and body a bit. He licked his cracked lips and handed the bottle back to Aerik who sat it down beside them.

“Alright.”

 

Aerik didn’t let him think twice. The Nord yanked the arrow out faster than Teldryn’s body was able to react, quickly covering the oozing wound with his hand. Teldryn couldn’t stop the hoarse cry that ripped its way out of his throat. Aerik’s other arm stopped him from doubling over, pressing him back against the tree, as the hand covering the wound began to pulse and glow with restoration magic. Teldryn breathed raggedly, letting his head thunk back against the wood as he felt the unsettling but familiar sensation of his insides being knit back together.

“It’s not a fatal spot,” he assured, though Aerik looked no less worried. “It just hurts like a bitch.”  
“Yeah, well,” Aerik laughed nervously, his restoration magic fading as the wound healed over. “I’d prefer if this didn’t become a habit.”

 

Teldryn reached a hand up to cup the back of Aerik’s neck, pulling him forward for a kiss. It was apparently the correct thing to do, because the man practically melted against him, letting out a shaky breath against his face. Their helmets bumped against each other, making the angle slightly awkward, but it didn’t last long. It served its purpose. Both of them calmed down.

“Let’s see what wealth these bastards left lying around,” Teldryn suggested.

 

They set about tearing the camp apart and making it their own. There was plenty of food and drink for the night, as well as a few animal pelts and stolen weapons. Aerik broke three of his precious lock picks trying to break into an East Empire Company strongbox. They were rewarded with a good deal of gold, some precious stones, and a fairly plain East Empire Company pendant.

“I know a guy in town that will buy this from us for a good price,” Teldryn offered, pocketing the pendant.

“Man, I love you and your shady connections,” Aerik laughed. Teldryn chuckled as well, intentionally ignoring the casual use of that damn L word. They pulled down the scattered tents to construct one larger, enclosed one to share, lining it with the excess furs and bedrolls. Aerik’s mood seemed to be improving by the minute. Teldryn watched him passively as the man walked down to the waterline to wash his face and arms.

“Ever preening,” he jeered as Aerik returned.

“What can I say? It’s just the high elf in me.”

 

They shared food over small talk as the night crept in around them. The reavers had a variety of dried meats as well as some rabbit legs, skinned and ready to roast. The fire crackled and popped and the two huddled closer to it as the air around them begin to chill. They passed a mead bottle back and forth, Aerik insisting that they sing a drinking song, to which Teldryn refused, laughing as the damn Bard broke out into song regardless. Teldryn felt calm again, leaning back against his forearms and stretching his legs out in front of him.

 

“So…” Aerik finally spoke up after a prolonged moment of silence between them. “You wanna make sure I get another good night’s sleep tonight?”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” Teldryn laughed, still gazing into the fire. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aerik shrug and smile.     

“What’s the point? I could die tomorrow.”

“Quite the optimist, as well.”

“I just like to think of myself more as… opportunistic.”

 

The two smirked at each other for a moment before Aerik turned to his pack and began digging around. He procured a small vial of oil and tossed it gingerly to Teldryn who managed to catch it mid air.

“Are you _always_ this prepared?” he teased after he inspected it, though he felt his own ears becoming hot at the tips. Aerik just grinned, crawling towards where Teldryn still lay reclined. He swooped down for a slow, languid kiss that absolutely drove the mer insane, his whole body lighting up in response. He grabbed at Aerik’s sides, trying to pull him down further.

“Nuh uh,” the Nord teased, pulling away. “Tent.”

“Don’t feel like putting on a show for the netch?” Teldryn chuckled, dusting off his elbows as he sat up.

“Teldryn, you scoundrel. There are children out there!” Aerik proclaimed, scandalized, sweeping his hand in the direction of a betty netch and her calf.

“Ah, yes, how very lewd of me… Well, go fluff up the nest. I’m going to lay down some runes in case anything tries to sneak up on us.”

 

Teldryn watched with fondness as Aerik scampered into their makeshift tent and began to push furs around enthusiastically. He took a breath, calming his nerves and centering his magicka, and began to walk the perimeter of their camp, laying down fire runes at crucial points. He’d probably have to come back out and reset them before they actually went to sleep, but these would do for now. If anything, they’d serve as an alarm. He quickly retreated into the tent after he was done, closing the flap behind him. It was dark inside, but Teldryn could still make out Aerik’s form. More importantly, he could feel the man pulling him down.

 

Aerik’s hands felt their way across Teldryn’s face, down his neck, tugging at his shirt. They moved against each other in the darkness, pulling off the other’s clothes, mouths always a breath apart. Teldryn pressed Aerik down onto his back, halfway between kissing him and trying to consume him. The man practically vibrated with energy beneath his touch, writhing and pulsing upwards, always arching and reaching for more. All of Aerik’s movements had a bittersweet tinge of desperation that Teldryn patiently and insistently attempted to quell with slow movements and deep promising kisses that said _I’m right here_.

 

The Nord was soon switching their positions and sliding his way down Teldryn’s torso, leaving trails of frantic wet kisses across his abdomen before wrapping his mouth once again around the Dunmer’s straining cock. Teldryn hissed and arched up into Aerik’s mouth, hands immediately tangled into those loosening braids. Aerik’s pace still seemed frantic; his mouth was incredibly wet and his movements sloppy. Teldryn soon realized why as the Nord quickly removed his mouth and moved to straddle his hip, aligning his ass up with Teldryn’s cock.

“Where’s the bottle?” he half-whispered, but Teldryn shook his head in the dark.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” he rumbled, sitting up and pressing his hands against Aerik’s shoulder’s to get him to lay down.

“What…?”

“Lay back, Aerik. Please,” Teldryn added. He felt the man’s energy turn nervous and heard him audibly swallow.  
“Do you not want…?”

“I do, love, but not like that,” he assured, kissing Aerik firmly on the jaw as he reached for the small vial that was still in the pocket of his pants off to the side. It took a small amount of fumbling in the dark, but he eventually uncorked the thing and began to generously coat his fingers. He kissed Aerik again, letting his hand trail between the man’s legs, stroking his length once before moving further down. He pressed his middle finger gingerly against Aerik’s entrance, earning a sharp exhale from the man.

“Please,” he nearly whimpered against Teldryn’s cheek.

“Shh,” Teldryn responded, occupying Aerik’s mouth with his own as he began to slowly press into him. He drank deeply the wanton moans spilling out of the man as he opened him up slowly, deliberately. He didn’t want to rush this time. Aerik’s words were ringing through his head from earlier: _I could die tomorrow_. Teldryn knew it was always a possibility, one of many different realities, but so often he pushed those thoughts away.

 

Aerik sucked in a breathy gasp as Teldryn added another finger, tucking his head to press against the mer’s sternum, clutching at his shoulders as if he might fall away otherwise. He worked his fingers in and out, gently, scissoring every so slightly, until he felt the man truly beginning to relax. He pulled away, grabbing the vial again to apply oil to his own length. He moved to lie over top of Aerik, sliding his hands over his hips and lining himself up with the man’s entrance. He pushed in slowly, tortuously. Aerik breathed raggedly beneath him, his breath hot against Teldryn’s ear, hands roaming up and down his back aimlessly, carding through his hair.

 

He stilled after bottoming out, giving Aerik time to adjust. He reached up and gently curled a hand around Aerik’s face, bringing their lips together as he began to move. He felt Aerik cross his ankles behind his back, hooking his feet together. He wrapped his arms around Teldryn’s torso, pressing them as close together as they could be. The man whined into his mouth – a vulnerable, desperate sound that Teldryn wasn’t entirely sure he liked. Something about Aerik was unraveling. The way he grunted with each thrust was as if he was holding himself back, wound tight with restraint. Teldryn held his lips against Aerik’s neck, right over that fluttering pulse, his thrusts long and even, savoring the sensation. He reached a hand down to begin to stroke Aerik in tandem and that’s when something broke. The man let out a sound that could only be described as a shuddering sob and Teldryn froze immediately.

 

“Aerik, what’s wrong?” he asked, trying to sound calm and not nearly as panicked as he felt.

“No, no, nothing… this is… amazing. So amazing…” Aerik insisted, but his voice was tense and watery. Teldryn reached a hand up to try to caress his face only to have Aerik quickly push his hand away.

“Don’t…” he demanded, but Teldryn had already felt the wetness there. That shouldn’t be there. Something was wrong.

“Why…”

“ _Don’t_ …” Aerik repeated, stern, desperate. “Don’t ask me that. Please don’t, just… please. This feels… I just didn’t know it could feel this good…” The confession was just above a whisper and something inside Teldryn’s chest twisted with a distant, sick realization.

“Please, don’t stop,” Aerik whispered, grabbing onto Teldryn’s shoulder with ferocity, burying his face into the side of the man’s neck.

 

So Teldryn didn’t. He continued steadily, focusing purely on Aerik’s pleasure. He stroked him firmly, adding more oil where they joined to make it even easier. Aerik’s sounds of pleasure became more authentic, deeper, and more guttural. He reached his arms out over his head, grabbing onto the furs and arching his back, creating a long line of torso that Teldryn worshiped with his mouth.

 

He felt Aerik beginning to tense around him, the man’s climax drawing near, so he whispered words of encouragement into his ear, low and hot, telling him how good he was.

“Faster…” Aerik panted, so Teldryn obliged. Aerik was letting out hoarse shouts with each thrust as their hips slapped together – a slick, primal sound. He clenched around Teldryn suddenly and viciously, curling forward and nearly slamming his head into the mer above him. He yelled through clenched teeth, a shuddering, feverish sound, pulsing with his release. Teldryn pumped him through his orgasm, thrusting shallowly until he felt Aerik begin to relax. The man fell back, practically boneless, onto the furs, panting loudly. Teldryn leaned down over top of him, kissing his temple firmly before slowly pulling out.

“But you didn’t…” Aerik protested, breathless.

“Shush,” Teldryn interrupted with slightly more composure than he felt. “It’s not always about that.” He ran a hand along Aerik’s side, across his ribs, the skin there so soft, before leaning down and kissing the man long and slow. Aerik brought a hand up to gently hold Teldryn’s neck, stroking a thumb across his jaw.

 

“I need to go re-cast the runes, then I’ll get something to clean up,” he murmured against the side of Aerik’s head, feeling the man nod against his lips. He left the tent swiftly without looking back. Once outside, the cold air hit him like a slap, but his mind was too numb to really react. Emotions ranging from anger to disgust to sorrow to deep, profound love roiled inside his chest like a great and terrible war. He took a deep breath, the cold air stinging his lungs, before drawing his magicka into his palms. Once the runes were cast, he grabbed a strip of cloth and dipped it in the pail of water near the fire. He wrung the cloth out and cleaned himself quickly, dipping the cloth in the water again before using the rest to douse what was left of the lowly burning embers. Squeezing out the excess water once more, her returned to the tent.

 

It smelled like sex and sweat and pheromones. Aerik had curled onto his side, covering his face with one hand. They were left in darkness once more as Teldryn let the flap fall closed.

“Here, come on…” Teldryn coaxed, placing a hand on Aerik’s bicep. “It’s a bit cold, I’ll warn you.”

“I’m sorry…” Aerik whispered, unmoving, his voice full of shame and regret.

“Will you cut that out?” Teldryn snapped softly, affectionately, squeezing the man’s arm. He felt and heard Aerik shift onto his back. There was a beat of silence before Aerik laughed. It was a small, soft sound, but it was like a breath of fresh air.

“Thanks…” he said, and Teldryn could hear the smile in his voice. He put the cloth in Aerik’s hand, allowing him control over his own clean up. He chuckled lowly when the man hissed audibly.

“I told you it was cold.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit bracing…”

 

The tension in the air was slowly beginning to dissolve, but traces of it remained. Aerik curled into Teldryn’s side, kissing him deeply before tucking his head against the mer’s shoulder – apparently a favorite sleeping position of his. The man’s breathing steadily began to slow and, once again, Teldryn found himself wide-awake, staring sightlessly into the darkness above him.

 

There were plenty of reasons why Aerik might have reacted the way he did earlier - intimacy and gentleness could be overwhelming, Teldryn new this from his own life. But to admit that... to express that this level of pleasure had not previously been experienced? He sighed heavily, feeling Aerik’s arm rise and fall with his chest. He had confidence that Aerik would talk to him in due time, so there was no need to push the subject. Plus, there was a very good chance that if Teldryn ever found out who exactly hurt the man that much... that they might very well end up dead.  

 

\---

 

The pale morning light filtered through the tent’s tan walls, allowing just enough light to see. Teldryn woke before Aerik, again. The man seemed to be sleeping deeply, curled up on his side. He looked very boyish, and despite approaching what was considered to be middle age for humans, Teldryn was struck by how very young Aerik still was. He reached out and pushed a bit of hair away from the man’s face. That’s when he felt it – that unmistakable feeling of a red hot coal burning deep in his gut, the beating of a bird’s wings in his lungs, the pulse that throbbed just behind his heart and traveled upwards, manifesting as a tightness in his throat.

 

He was falling in love.

 

Yesterday this might have frightened him. In all honesty, it still did. But an unnatural sense of calm followed the realization and Teldryn couldn’t help but smile. Aerik chose this moment to open his eyes.

“Good morning,” he rumbled, smiling sheepishly.

“Good morning,” Teldryn responded, still brushing hair away from the man’s face. Aerik sighed, a heavy, weary sound. He grabbed Teldryn's hand and planted a kiss on his palm.

“Can we just… stay like this all day instead?” Aerik whined, pulling Teldryn over to lie across him.

“I’m afraid not. Though it would be preferable.”

“After this is all over, I’m swear I’m going to spend multiple days without leaving bed and I’m keeping you in it with me,” he laughed, covering his face in the crook of his arm.

“Not even to bathe?” Teldryn exclaimed in shock. Aerik peeked out from under his arm, cracking a wry grin that had been sorely missed.

“Maybe to bathe… but I’m taking you with me for that as well.”

“Hmm… sounds tedious,” Teldryn taunted, running his thumb across Aerik’s prominent collarbone and along his shoulder. “But I could probably be persuaded.”

 

They took their time getting up, enjoying each other’s company and exploring each other’s bodies for a while longer. When they did finally find the motivation to begin getting dressed and breaking down camp, they both seemed to have a calm determination for what lay ahead. Teldryn strapped into his chitin armor, making up his own mind about the events that lay ahead of them today. He had a plan, and he hoped Aerik would agreed to it…

 

“Ready to go?” the Nord chirped before taking a crunching bite out of an ash yam.

“I just need to fill my waterskin then we can be off,” Teldryn responded, striding briskly over to the water’s edge. He knelt to dip his waterskin just beneath the surface, looking out over the water as it filled. The betty netch and her calf from last night were still nearby, grazing lazily across the open water in search of fish. Teldryn was suddenly struck with a very powerful, very vivid vision of his wife and child, so sudden and so real in its manifestation that he sucked in a startled breath. It vanished as quickly as it came, leaving him with an incredibly odd feeling of longing mixed with closure. His eyes prickled and he quickly rose to his feet, coughing loudly and capping his waterskin. He jogged back over to where Aerik stood waiting for him and they began their long trek back up the mountain and to the Skaal village.

 

 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (´,_ゝ`)
> 
> Sex is hard, y'all. What even are relationships.  
> Sometimes I wish I was 200 years old so I could have some better perspective on it all. 
> 
> Stay tuned for the Big Boss Battle feat. DJ Audible Chocolate, Miraak.


	11. Waking Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -LONG CHAPTER AHEAD-

 

 

_“The proud heart feels not terror nor turns to run and it is his own courage that kills him”_  
_―_ **Homer, The Iliad **

\---

 

The sun was just reaching its midday peak in the sky when the two arrived back at the village. Frea greeted them with warmness coupled with trepidation.

“My father is just inside… he has been preparing for your arrival,” she offered vaguely. Aerik nodded solemnly, pushing the door to the shaman’s hut open. Storn sat on his knees, silhouetted by the dim light of the hearth fire, his back to the door.

“The Water Stone is free,” Aerik declared, stepping forward.

“Indeed,” Storn replied, somewhat distantly. “The Tree Stone is still corrupted… the land is still out of balance. But with the other five restored… it may be enough. It will have to be.”

“So you’ve decided then? You’re going to give Mora what he wants?” Aerik pressed, sounding both relieved and anxious. Storn slowly got to his feet with a great, heaving sigh. He turned to face the Dragonborn, his weathered face looking even more so in the flickering shadows of the low-burning fire.

“Yes,” he sighed, head bowing. “The Skaal also tell of the day when we must finally give up our secrets. When Herma-Mora finally wins. As shaman, it is my duty to guard these secrets, but also decide when it is necessary to give them up. I believe that time is now.”

 

He strode forward to stand more directly in front of Aerik.

“If I am wrong, may my ancestors forgive me.”

“I shall ensure that your people’s sacrifice will not be in vain. Miraak will not return. Hermaeus Mora’s grip on this land will be severed. You have my word,” Aerik assured, placing a hand on one of Storn’s shoulders. The old shaman smiled sadly at him.

“You have a good heart, Dragonborn. I pray to the All-Maker that it will remain uncorrupted by the darkness in our world. You are a gift to us.”

 

Teldryn felt his chest constrict at Storn’s words. They resonated within him. His resolve was growing stronger. He saw Aerik step to the side, allowing the shaman to pass. Storn acknowledged Teldryn with a creased brow before opening the door to the hut.

“Come. We will convene in the center of our village. Give me the book and I will speak to old Herma-Mora himself. I will make sure he lives up to his part of the bargain.”

 

Aerik, Teldryn, and Frea followed the man in a solemn procession. Aerik carefully pulled the thick leather tome from his pack, a queasy expression on his face.

“Father,” Frea finally spoke up. “Please… you must not do this. That book is… wrong. It is evil. There must be some other way…”

“I must, Frea,” Storn insisted, striding confidently into the center of the village. “It is the only way to free Solstheim forever from Miraak’s shadow.”

“Please,” she tried again, running to pull on her father’s shoulder. He turned to face her, his sad smile returning, and took her face into his gloved hands.

“There comes a time when everything must change. Nothing that lives remains the same forever.” He pressed their foreheads together. “Do not fear for me, my daughter. This is the destiny that the All-Maker has laid out for me.”

“I stand beside you, father,” Frea assured, covering his large hands with her own. “As always.”

 

She backed away reluctantly, moving to stand beside Teldryn as Aerik stepped forward and handed Storn the book.

“Be careful,” Aerik offered ruefully before stepping back to stand at Teldryn’s other side. The old shaman nodded, grasping the book firmly, his expression that of grim determination.  
“I am ready for whatever the master of this foul book has in store for me.”

 

Storn opened the book, seeming to gaze sightlessly into its pages. Teldryn was ready for him to enter the same, odd trance that Aerik always seemed to succumb to. Instead, the tome was violently jerked from the man’s hands by some unseen force, hovering several feet in front of him. Without warning, several slick, black tentacles shot out from within the pages, skewering Storn’s body in multiple places, lifting him off the ground.

“NO!” Aerik and Frea seemed to scream in tandem before a final tentacle shot out and pierced the Nord between his eyes.

 

“Ah… At last, the Skaal yield up their secrets _to me_!” A writhing, black mass of sluggishly blinking eyes with rectangular pupils began to manifest in mid air. Teldryn felt bile burn in the back of his throat. Storn was still alive, struggling against the tentacles, grunting in pain.

“You… liar…. Gah!”

“FATHER!” Frea shrieked, lunging forward. Teldryn grabbed onto her, mostly out of instinct, preventing her from getting near the thing.

“By the Gods, I have to do something…” Aerik half-whispered to no one in particular, drawing his sword.

“I… won’t… not… for you…” Storn groaned, desperately thrashing as he was held suspended. Aerik began to lurch forward but froze as the giant mass turned its attention to him.

 

“Dragonborn,” it rumbled, its deep voice vibrating through Teldryn’s bones. “You have delivered me the gift I requested.” Aerik shouted wordlessly at the thing, an act of helpless anger and frustration.

“In return, I keep my promise, as befits a Prince of Oblivion,” it drawled. “I give you the Word of Power that you need to challenge Miraak.”

 

Aerik’s eyes seemed to gloss over momentarily as a curious, sickly green energy shot forth from one of the undulating masses of eyes and into the Nord’s head. At that moment, the tentacles in Storn sucked themselves back into the book, leaving the old man to drop to the ground, landing in a crumpled heap - lifeless. Teldryn released Frea as the woman dashed to her father’s side with a heartrending sob. The book lay motionless in the snow.

“You will either be a worthy opponent or his successor,” the monster continued as Aerik’s vision seemed to clear. “As the tides of fate decree.”      

 

And just like that, the thing dissolved back into nothingness, returning to whatever plane of oblivion from which it had come.

“Father!” Frea sobbed, throwing herself across the fallen body of the shaman. “What have you done,” she seemed to ask him before turning to Aerik, cheeks stained with tears. “ _What have you done?_ ”

“I…” Aerik stuttered, his own eyes brimming with restrained emotion. She reached over and picked the book up out of the snow where it had fallen, brushing a shaking hand over its cover before hurling it in Aerik’s direction.

“Go!” she nearly screamed. “My father… _sacrificed_ himself so that you could destroy Miraak and lift his master’s shadow from the land.” She wiped her nose vigorously across her sleeve, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “So _go_ then… _Kill_ Miraak. Do not fail.”

 

Teldryn looked around them, realizing that most of the village had come out to witness their shaman’s death at the hand of a Daedric abomination. They stood huddled in a mass together, whispering fearfully among themselves. He looked back to Aerik as the man bent down to pick up the book, his face contorted in anguish and guilt.

“Wait,” Teldryn called out, striding over to stand beside the Nord. Aerik’s head jerked up to face him, his nose red from the cold and eyes sunken with grief.

 

“I’m coming with you.”

 

Aerik’s expression shifted from grief to shock to intense fear to rage.

“NO, absolutely not!” he yelled, something akin to true anger crossing his features.

“I refuse to let you face this alone!” Teldryn yelled back, standing his ground.  
“I’m sorry, did you just miss the last few fucking minutes!?” Aerik asked, his voice reaching a hysterical pitch. “That thing just _murdered_ Storn. Right in front of all of us. I am _not_ letting him kill anyone else. Especially…” He let out a stuttering breath, shaking his head.

“Especially not you.”

 

Teldryn stepped forward, placing his hands on either side of Aerik’s face.

“I have sworn myself to your protection,” he murmured lowly. “I will not stand helplessly by one more time.”

“I can’t lose you,” Aerik whispered hoarsely, dropping the book and grasping the side of Teldryn’s helmet with his own hands.

“You won’t.”

“You can’t possibly promise that.”

“I can and I will, damn it,” Teldryn growled. “Because I don’t want to lose you, either.”

 

They each stared intently at the other for a long moment, neither backing down, until Aerik swiftly yanked Teldryn’s face scarf down and crashed their mouths together. Teldryn heard Frea let out a small hiccup of a gasp, but Aerik pulled away quickly.

“You stubborn son of a bitch,” Aerik grumbled, stepping away to pick the book up once again. “You’re going to hate this.”

“I know I am,” Teldryn sighed. He re-secured his face scarf, moving to stand directly beside Aerik. The Nord looked over to Frea.

“Your father’s death will be avenged,” he promised. She nodded numbly before looking back down at Storn’s crumpled figure in her lap.

 

“Brace yourself,” Aerik warned, and Teldryn did. He felt every muscle in his body tense as he watched, in what almost seemed to be slow motion, as Aerik cracked open the hideous leather book. The words on the page looked normal at first, but they soon began to blur into odd, unreadable glyphs. It was then that Teldryn felt a sick, pulling sensation in the pit of his stomach. His vision went black.

 

\---

 

When Teldryn finally came to, someone was calling his name. His vision was still dark and his head swam as if he had downed an entire bottle of Cyrodillic brandy all in one go. The person was insistently repeating his name.

“Llunela?” he asked wearily, his wife’s name the only thing he could remember. A firm hand grasped his shoulder and shook him vigorously.

“You have to stand up,” the voice insisted. Teldryn blinked, the darkness clouding his vision beginning to recede. He was kneeling. The ground beneath him was like cracked stone and for a split second he swore the blackness within the cracks was _moving_. He pushed away, stumbling backwards and onto his feet. The place smelled awful, a permeating miasma of rotting fish and mold.

“Where am I?” he asked, angry and panicked.

“You’re with me,” the voice said. It belonged to a handsome young Nord who looked at him with the tenderness of a lover. His memories slowly began to filter back into his mind like a thick ooze.

“Aerik?” he asked, scrambling to remember something important.

“Gods, this was a bad idea…” Aerik lamented, rubbing his eyes in frustration.

“No,” Teldryn assured, his memories clicking into place. “No, it’s… I’m fine. I’m better. I was just… disoriented,” he assured, and he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Aerik or himself more. He took a moment to look around. Before them towered immense spires that stretched upwards into a murky green sky that was unlike anything Teldryn had ever seen in Tamriel. Massive walls of books, all appearing to be in some stage of rot, lined the periphery of his vision, as small dust devils of papers flitted across the barren landscape. The air was hot and thick, and Teldryn had to suppress the urge to gag.

 

“What do we do?” he asked, trying not to sound as terrified as he felt. Aerik, his face still marred with worry, nodded his head towards and archway off in the distance.

“We need to read the next chapter,” he said, as if that made any sense. Teldryn swallowed thickly, nodding once.

“Lead on.”

 

Aerik drew his sword and began to walk towards the spiraling arches, which Teldryn realized were also made out of rotting books. He drew his own sword, walking diagonally to keep a lookout behind them. The realm was eerily quiet, any sounds that were made had an odd, muffled quality to them. They climbed the stairs carefully and quietly, approaching a large book that sat on a pedestal at the end of the small peninsula. Teldryn looked out in horror at the brackish water that seemed to stretch endlessly towards the horizon; a forest of thick, black tentacles protruding from its depths waved lazily at them, almost mockingly.

“Come here,” Aerik ordered, holding out a hand for Teldryn to grasp. “Read.”

 

Teldryn stepped to the man’s side, squeezing his hand assuredly. He looked up briefly to see the foggy shape of what appeared to be a dragon circling one of the tallest spires, before jerking his head back down to read the tome. He felt the same, sick pulling sensation once again, before his vision tunneled.  

 

They reappeared in a different part of the realm, this time at the bottom of a set of long, spiraling staircases and bridges lined with rows of books. Teldryn got the distinct feeling that they were inside one of the spires, but it was hard to say. The brackish water still occupied some of the floor.

“Was it like this every time you read one of these books?” Teldryn asked quietly. Aerik nodded silently before beginning to cautiously ascend the stairs. Teldryn saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Up ahead,” Aerik whispered harshly. “Stay alert. It’ll drain your magicka, then it’ll kill you.”

 

Teldryn didn’t have time to ask for clarification. As they rounded the top of the stairs, a hideous, tentacle-faced creature blinked into existence before them. Teldryn couldn’t help the disgusted noise that wormed its way out of his throat. Aerik was already charging the thing, casting his mage armor as he did. Teldryn fell quickly into step behind him, lobbing a quick fireball before focusing on the weapon in his hands. The creature made odd movements with his short arms, producing ripples in the air. They slammed into Teldryn like a thunderclap, shaking his body and mind. He felt his connection to his magicka weakening, but he pushed forward. Aerik had already gotten several hits in with his sword, leaving no room for Teldryn to attack without injuring his companion. He quickly sheathed his sword, drawing his bow. He had landed two arrows into the creatures head when, to his horror, the thing multiplied, splitting into two distinct forms.

“Attack the original one!” Aerik called, ignoring the second figure completely. So Teldryn did. Sinking two more arrows into the hideous beast. After one final slash from Aerik’s sword, the thing crumpled into a heap of rags with a hissing echo. Its double also disappeared, dissolving in a puff of ash. Aerik looked back at Teldryn, eyes sharp and alert.

 

“They multiply when they know they’re about to die,” he explained. “But their double doesn’t last without the original.”

“I assume you found all this out during your last foray into this hellscape?” Teldryn asked, slightly breathless. He felt his magicka beginning to return, sluggishly. Aerik shrugged, quirking a half smile.

“I guess I’m becoming adept in Apocrypha. But we should keep moving. I think I see a book up ahead…”

 

They hastily and quietly made their way along the shelves and across a narrow bridge to a pedestal. Aerik paused, looking confused.

“What is it? Something wrong?”

“Huh… this is different. It’s a different book. It’s titled _Boneless Limbs_ ,” he read aloud. Teldryn glanced down at the first floor where he could see some of those lethargic tentacles undulating in and out of the water.

“How quaint,” he quipped. Aerik quickly shoved the book into his pack.

“It’s probably important. Best hold onto it. Come one, we need to find the next chapter.”

 

Still sticking to the edges of the massive walls of rotting books, they quickly made their way up and out of this particular spire onto a small landing that overlooked the black sea of tentacles once again.

“There,” Aerik pointed to the glowing book that perched just to the right of them on a similar pedestal.

“Away we go,” Teldryn sighed, stepping up next to the Nord. He felt the man’s hand slide against his lower back. Small comforts. Then the blackness flooded his vision again.

 

The next time they reappeared, Teldryn experienced the same sensation he had felt when they were deep in the belly of Miraak’s temple – claustrophobia and nausea. They walls of books arched up around them to form a tunnel, elaborate, glassless windows allowing them to peer into adjoining rooms. Straight ahead, another book lay on a pedestal. Aerik pulled his sword from his scabbard, which prompted Teldryn to ready his bow, nocking and arrow. They crept down the hallway, the only sounds were that of rustling pages and distantly rippling water. Just as they rounded the bend, another one of those creatures stood waiting for them. Teldryn didn’t think twice, loosing his arrow and reaching for a second as fast as his arms could move. Aerik had cast mage armor, lunging forward and beginning to hack into the thing. Teldryn managed to get one more shot in before he felt something dense and heavy slam into his back, knocking him forward. Behind him, a thick black tentacle was sliding back into the small pool of water from which it had emerged. Teldryn stepped just out of its range before he felt the assault of a second creature’s psychic attacks from across the way.

“Aerik to your right!” he called, loosing an arrow at the slowly approaching creature, it’s small, vestigial arms pulsing wave after wave of energy. The one that Aerik was currently battling had split into two, so Teldryn took a moment to shoot an arrow at the original one, grunting as he was hit full force with another attack from the new monster.

 

As soon as the first creature crumpled, Aerik wheeled around, standing between Teldryn and the approaching one.

“ _FUS… RO DAH_!” he shouted. The creature did not fly back like anyone in Tamriel would have, but did stutter in its movements, giving Teldryn time to summon a fireball and lob it at the thing. It hissed and shrieked, a terrible, bone-chilling sound, splitting into two almost immediately.

“Hit it some more if you can!” Aerik yelled, stepping to the side to give Teldryn room. He was able to throw two more fireballs before his magicka was completely drained. When he turned to his bow, Aerik took the cue, sprinting forward and running the thing through with his elven shortsword. The creature screamed and crumpled to the ground, nothing left but a pile of rags.

 

“I really hate these things,” Teldryn panted, following Aerik as he hastily moved around the wall and up the stairs of the adjoining chamber.

“They’re definitely not my favorite sparring partner,” he groaned as they approached the pedestal. “Ah, it’s another one of these weird books. _Delving Pincers_. How strange.”

“I think I heard a gate open back down the hall,” Teldryn pointed out after Aerik had picked up the book.

“Well that confirms it, then… these books are important for some reason. Who knows why,” Aerik mused as they jogged back down the stairs and through the hall, avoiding the small pools of water with care.  

“Are you going to read them?”

“Fuck no.”

 

They managed to wind their way through more of the endless library, finding yet another odd book, _Prying Orbs_. Trudging their way through the next chapter, they fought multiple of those sickly green creatures and their odd magical attacks. Exhausted, Aerik managed to find yet another book, _Gnashing Blades_.

“I hate all of these ridiculous titles,” Teldryn huffed, feeling more out of breath than usual.

“I think we can concede to just hating _everything_ about this place,” Aerik offered, earning a tired laugh from the Dunmer.

“Fair enough. Let’s find this next damn chapter…”

 

The long hallways undulated and moved around them, seeming to lengthen and shorten at a whim, making Teldryn feel mildly seasick. Aerik trudged forward, solving the little riddles that the realm threw at them with a kind of cleverness and ease that Teldryn envied. The whole place had his head in a fog, and he vaguely wondered what consequences this might have on his mind once they made it out of here. _If they made it out_ , the nasty part of his inner thoughts reminded him.

 

“Okay, help me look for one of those weird glowing plants,” Aerik asked as they entered yet another chamber. This one had a large pool of black water in the middle. Teldryn very much did not like the look of it.

“Mind the pool, love,” he suggested, nodding his head towards the center of the room. Aerik smiled goofily at him.

“You should call me ‘love’ more often.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want, whenever you want, once we get out of this damn place,” Teldryn promised with a smirk. The dark water began to ripple ominously and the smiles quickly slid from both their faces.

 

With a deafening roar, one of the creatures from the Standing Stones burst forth out of the depths, a mass of wriggling tentacles shooting up around its feet. Teldryn was actually delighted to hear Aerik let out a triumphant kind of laugh as he called forth his fiery dragon shout, engulfing the creature in flames.

“Now these I can handle!” Teldryn added to the blaze, hurling fireball after fireball, as much as his magicka would allow. The creature shrieked and gargled, recoiling from the onslaught. Before it could even lift its head to retaliate, two of Aerik’s ice spikes lodged themselves into its body, the third piercing the thing right between its eyes. It heaved a final breath before toppling backwards, splashing back into the water from which it emerged.

 

Aerik whooped in celebration, jogging over to Teldryn. He quickly tugged the Dunmer’s face scarf down to lean in and steal a kiss. Teldryn pushed his helmet the rest of the way off, letting it drop to the ground to reciprocate more appropriately. They kissed ferociously, all tongue and teeth, and had they not been in an eldritch nightmare realm, Teldryn might have suggested they get frisky.

 

But they _were_ in an eldritch nightmare realm.

 

Aerik pulled away breathlessly, stroking a thumb across Teldryn’s cheek.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted. Teldryn smirked.

“Someone has to watch your ass, you blade-happy idiot.” He stepped away and bent to pick up his helmet. “Now, let’s go kick this Miraak fellow’s ass and get the hell out of here.”

“Sounds like an excellent plan,” Aerik beamed.

 

As they emerged from the fifth chapter, they were confronted with even more tentacled monsters, that Aerik had dubbed 'Seekers', which they were becoming quite skilled at dispatching quickly. There was also another damn puzzle to solve involving all of the nasty books they had picked up along the way. Luckily, Aerik seemed to pick up on it pretty quickly.

“Look at the glyphs,” he explained to Teldryn, running a hand over one of the strange pedestals that lined the chamber’s balconies. “They’re essentially telling me which book goes where.”

“I don’t see what you’re seeing, but sure,” the old elf grumbled, upset with himself for feeling so useless. After all the books were placed, the final chapter revealed itself, sitting near the center column of the massive chamber.

“Onwards and upwards,” Aerik sighed, taking Teldryn’s hand into his own as they huddled around the pages. Teldryn took a deep breath, hoping this would be the last time he had to feel his mind being pulled even further into this sickening realm. His vision tunneled around the words and his world went black.

 

\---

 

The two Seekers went down without much fanfare, though Teldryn needed a moment to catch his breath.  
“This seems like a dead end, Aerik,” he panted, resting his hand against an odd looking statue that vaguely resembled a slaughterfish. All at once, he felt completely rejuvenated. He took his hand off the statue and stared at it thoughtfully – it seemed to be pulsing with a green light. _Maybe not everything in this realm is wretched_ , Teldryn thought offhandedly. Aerik was standing in front of a wall, which Teldryn quickly recognized as a Dragon Wall.

“What’s one of those doing here?” he mused aloud.

 

And then he heard it.

 

The distinctive roar of a dragon, fast approaching. He quickly cast the strongest armor spell he knew, readying his bow and arrow. Aerik spun around from the wall, his eyes blazing with the icy knowledge of a new Word of Power.

“Don’t attack it,” he ordered, a small, mischievous smile playing across his lips.

“I have an idea.”

 

Teldryn watched in horror as a dragon unlike any he’d ever seen landed a few yards away from where they stood. Aerik strode confidently out to meet it, sending a sharp jolt of panic through Teldryn’s body.

“Aerik!” he yelled, voice straining with fear. The Nord held a hand up to him, even as the massive, hideous beast reared its head back, inhaling deeply in preparation to shout. Before it could even open it’s mouth, however, Aerik loosed his own. The dragon’s head snapped backwards with the force of the shout, but seemed to quickly calm down, lowering its head to look Aerik in the eyes.

“Hail, _thuri_ ,” it spoke in a deep, thundering voice. “ _Drem yol lok._ Your thu’um has the mastery. I bow to you.” Teldryn’s jaw dropped.

“Take me and my companion to Miraak,” Aerik commanded. The dragon lowered its head even further.

“As you wish, Dovahkiin,” it rumbled. Aerik turned back to look at Teldryn, extending his hand.

“Come,” he said, as if asking the mer to join him on a horse and not to ride on a _fucking dragon_. Teldryn took a shaky step forward, grasping Aerik’s outstretched hand. He allowed the Nord to help him jump up and straddle the dragon’s massive neck. Aerik sat just in front of him.

“Let’s go!” he called, and with a great heaving thrust, the dragon lifted off the ground. Its powerful, leathery wings hefted them higher into the sky than Teldryn had ever been, or ever wanted to be again. He threw his arms around Aerik’s waist, thighs burning with the strain of gripping the beasts neck.

“I hate this!” he yelled over the rushing wind. To his chagrin, he swore he heard Aerik laughing. Teldryn pressed the top of his helmet between the Nord’s shoulder blades, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Beware,” the dragon rumbled, speaking as they flew. “Miraak is strong. He knew you would come here.”

“I am prepared,” Aerik assured the thing. “ _Zu’u fin laat Dovahkiin. Zu fen kos faal Kroniid. Nii los fun ko qostiid._ ” 

 

Hearing Aerik speak the dragon language was always a surreal experience. The words rumbled through the man’s body like thunder, reverberating out his back and into Teldryn’s chest. The mer tightened his grip around his waist reflexively.

“ _Paar_ ,” the dragon rumbled thoughtfully. “Miraak had this as well… perhaps you truly shall be his _Qahnaarin_.”

 

The massive beast began to swoop upwards, forcing both Teldryn and Aerik to grip the thing’s neck even tighter, leaning forward. It began to beat its wings rapidly, moving to land on top of the largest spire they had seen when first arriving in Apocrypha. Teldryn spotted Miraak standing off to the side, almost waiting patiently, as the dragon landed. The massive beast bowed his neck to allow the two of them to slide off.

“Sahrotaar, are you so easily swayed?” the man asked, his voice deep and powerful. The dragon, Sahrotaar, reeled back, as if about to shout.

“No. Not yet,” Miraak held up a hand. “We should greet our guest first.” He turned to Aerik, his masked gaze shifting slightly to look at Teldryn as well.

“Our... _guests_ ,” he amended. Something about the way he said it made the hairs on the back of Teldryn’s neck stand on end. He drew his sword, moving into a defensive stance.

“And here I thought it would just be us,” Miraak continued. “The First Dragonborn meeting the Last Dragonborn at the summit of Apocrypha. But I should have known that these things never go according to plan. It is just a shame you lead your friend to their death.”

“ _We_ are here to stop this madness, Miraak,” Aerik spat, his own voice louder and more powerful than Teldryn had ever heard.

“Is that what you think? That you came here by your own will? This is no doubt exactly what Hermaeus Mora intended you to think. He is a fickle master, you know.” The ancient Nord began to walk calmly towards the pair.

“But now I will be free of him. My time in Apocrypha is over. You are here in your full power, and thus subject to my full power.” He stopped just a few feet away from Aerik, standing casually, as if completely unthreatened.

“You will die. And with the power of your soul, I will return to Solstheim and be master of my fate once again.”

“That doesn’t have to be the only way!” Aerik nearly yelled. Teldryn snapped his gaze to his companion. _What in Oblivion was he saying?_

“Return with me. With us. We do not have to fight. I can help you, and in turn you can help me. Help _our_ world! Together we can defeat Alduin. We can _save_ Tamriel!” Aerik pleaded.

“A foolish proposal,” Miraak dismissed. “My soul is bound to this place. I’m afraid your death is my only option. _Sahrotaar, zii los dii du!_ ”

 

With that Miraak took a swift step backwards. The dragon that had carried them there recoiled with a roar as its soul was leeched from its body, leaving nothing but a heap of brittle bone in its stead. The ancient Nord used this extra power to conjure an immense electrical energy into his hands, shooting a crackling bolt of chain lightening towards Aerik, hitting him square in the chest.

“NO!” Teldryn shouted, calling forth his flame atronach.

“Kruziikrel! Relonikiv! Now!” Miraak shouted, and two massive dragons swooped upwards from the abyss beneath them, roaring into the sky. Aerik let out an angry Shout, one that Teldryn had never heard before, also pulling his own magicka forth to cast a potent, crackling lightening cloak around himself. He charged Miraak, drawing his sword and engaging the man in combat. Miraak’s own sword was a twisted abomination of an instrument. Teldryn heard him grunt as he came into contact with Aerik’s lightening cloak, swords clashing. Aerik was swinging his sword faster than Teldryn thought was physically possible, landing blow after blow against the ancient Nord, who stumbled backwards on the defensive.

 

Teldryn had to quickly duck out of the way of an icy blast from one of the dragons circling the summit. He tucked and rolled, sliding sideways; his flame atronach dutifully hurled its fire bolts at the creature. He glanced over to see Aerik had nearly beat Miraak into submission. All at once, however, the man used a shout to sprint away from the onslaught, his body becoming ethereal.

“ _Relonikiv, zii los dii du_!” Miraak’s disembodied voice echoed through the air around them, causing Aerik’s face to twist into an expression of disgust and terror.

“No, stop!” he yelled at Miraak’s fading form. One of the massive dragons landed on the summit, its soul immediately exploding forth from its body to surround Miraak, who absorbed the energy greedily. It crumpled into a heap of bones, leaving Teldryn slack-jawed in horror.

“Hermaeus Mora is laughing at us, you know,” Miraak taunted, his form becoming corporeal again.

“Miraak! I’m telling you, _there is another way_!” Aerik tried again, casting a quick restoration spell on himself, but the ancient Nord ignored his words and charged him once more. Miraak expelled another Thu’um, and some kind of wraithlike armor exploded around him. It was a brilliant thing to behold, but somehow also wretched and corrupted.

“Enough! You have no idea what you’re dealing with!” Miraak bellowed, bringing his sword down hard to strike Aerik. The young Nord managed to block the attack, but seemed to be struggling with his strength.

 

“Over here, you filthy _soul_ _fetcher_!” Teldryn roared, hurling multiple fireballs at Miraak’s turned back, his flame atronach doing the same. The man stumbled away from Aerik, wheeling on Teldryn.

“That was a mistake,” he rumbled, before unleashing a shout that sent Teldryn flying backwards through the air, disintegrating his atronach immediately. He scrambled desperately to orient himself, but hit the ground hard, still tumbling backwards at an alarming rate. With a startled cry, he felt his legs slide off into thin air; he had reached the edge of the platform. By some miracle he managed to just barely grip onto the side of the spire’s edge and prevent himself from falling into the inky black waters far below. He grunted, kicking his legs against the side of the slick, green structure, attempting to gain purchase and pull himself back up over the rim. His fingers were slipping dangerously against the otherworldly material.

 

With the sound of a thunder crack, Aerik was above him in an instant, grabbing onto his biceps and hoisting him up and onto flat ground once again. Teldryn panted, steadying himself against the man before attempting to stand.

“You show your weaknesses too easily,” Miraak laughed, walking towards the pair menacingly. Aerik walked forward, standing defensively in front of Teldryn.

“My weaknesses are also my strengths,” he growled. “ _MUL… QAH DIIV!_ ”

 

The same shimmering armor that surrounded Miraak erupted outwards from the ether, blazing around Aerik’s body like a full set of dragon armor. Teldryn could only look on, awestruck, as the two Dragonborns stared each other down.

“You use my own shouts against me,” Miraak snarled, assuming his fighting stance once again. Aerik loosed a colossal Shout that shook Teldryn to his core, pushing Miraak away quite a ways, but the First Dragonborn managed to stay on his feet. Giving him no time to react, Aerik charged, immediately engulfing Miraak in fire with another powerful Thu’um.

“ _Kruziikrel, zii los dii du!_ ” Miraak shouted, the second dragon collapsing as it landed on the summit, its soul also being ripped from its body.

“You claim to meet me at your full power, and yet you’ve had to consume three dragon souls to continue to fight me!” Aerik taunted, using a Shout to sprint unnaturally fast to where Miraak stood. “Back in Skyrim we call that _cheating_!” He brought his sword down swiftly, striking Miraak in his left shoulder then quickly spinning around, gaining momentum to hit him with the broad side of his sword across his face, cracking the tentacled mask in half. The ancient Nord stumbled and fell to the side, breathing heavily. From where Teldryn was standing, he could see Miraak had long, dark hair, slick like oil. He looked up at Aerik with pure hatred burning in his gaze – his one exposed eye a sickly, mottled green.

“You…” he wheezed, unable to finish whatever thought he had begun as Aerik reached a hand out to him, his ethereal dragon armor still pulsing around him.

“Please. It doesn’t have to be this way,” he begged, nearly whispered. Miraak looked conflicted, his face still marred with anger, but there was an underlying confusion. Slowly, he reached a hand up towards Aerik’s, and Teldryn allowed himself to feel a glimmer of hope.

 

Suddenly, Miraak’s eye went wide and he jerked his hand back. The expression on his face was replaced with sheer terror.

“ _No!_ ” he managed to cry out before his body was engulfed in a spontaneous formation of wriggling black tentacles, disappearing from sight. Aerik whirled around, scanning the platform.

“Where did he go!?” he shouted frantically to Teldryn, who was also attempting to search the area.

“The center pool, look!”

 

There, in the center of the spire’s summit, the dark inky pool was beginning to bubble, as if coming to a boil. Slowly, Miraak’s figure began to rise out of the water. He seemed to be frozen in mid air, arms outstretched as if crucified. Both Aerik and Teldryn looked on in horror as the booming voice of Hermaeus Mora filled the air, and possibly their own minds.

“Did you think you could escape me, Miraak?” he bellowed, his anger palpable. “You can hide nothing from me here!” A massive, thick tentacle shot out from the murky depths of the pool and skewered Miraak through his chest, ripping a gurgling, pained cry from the ancient Nord’s throat.

“NO!” Aerik screamed, lunging towards the pool.

“Ahh…” Mora’s voice turned calm again, stopping Aerik in his tracks. “No matter. I have found another Dragonborn to serve me.” Miraak grunted, struggling against the tentacle that had impaled him.

“May… he be rewarded for his service… as I have been…” he managed to gasp. The tentacle retracted itself suddenly, letting Miraak drop heavily to the ground. Aerik sprinted over to slide into a kneel beside him.

“No…” he nearly whispered, one hand hovering over the massive hole in the Nord’s chest. His blood was thick and black. Miraak panted heavily, his one, exposed eye trained on Aerik, a tempest of emotion concealed behind it.

“I’m sorry,” Aerik offered solemnly. Miraak said nothing, his eye falling closed. His body began to disintegrate, consumed by an otherworldly light. All of the dragon souls he had stolen seemed to rush out all at once, blasting into Aerik’s body. Over the cacophony Teldryn heard the man scream, and for the first time found himself wondering if it was _painful_ to absorb the soul of a dragon. He jogged to Aerik’s side, stumbling slightly. All that was left of Miraak was a crumpled skeleton.

 

“Miraak harbored fantasies of rebellion against me,” Mora drawled from above them. “Learn from his example. Serve me faithfully, and you will continue to be richly rewarded.”

“I will not SERVE YOU!” Aerik bellowed, getting to his feet. Hermaeus Mora chuckled darkly.

“Oh, but Dragonborn… you already have.”

 

In the center of the dark pool, a gazebo-like structure began to rise from the water. In the center of it lay the massive black book that originally brought them to this realm. Aerik grabbed Teldryn’s hand, pulling them both towards it. An unseen force opened the book before they reached it, and for a moment Aerik paused, a sickly green energy swirling out of the book and into his eyes. He growled angrily, lunging forward and slamming his and Teldryn’s hands down onto the softly pulsing pages. Teldryn felt the telltale tug in his gut, his vision darkening. His hand on the page suddenly seemed to fall right through it, into nothing. Then it was as if he was falling... _very fast._

 

It was unlike any of the times before – he was plunging through a terrifying, mind-rending void, unable to stop. He might have screamed, but it was as if he had no body from which to scream. Every fiber of his being felt as though it was being torn apart and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to _not_ feel this pain. It reached a crescendo, the blackness around him shrieking so loud that it almost sounded like nothing at all.  

 

Then it stopped.

 

 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to think that Aerik's mind is a little less affected by Apocrypha than the average person. Not that Teldryn is -average- but he doesn't have anywhere near the abilities of the Dragonborn. So I felt like he'd have his mind fucked with just a little bit.  
> Writing action scenes is a lot of fun, but it's also pretty difficult. So I hope it translated well! (CC always welcome in that regard).  
> Also, yea, cliffhanger... I'm an asshole. 
> 
> Dov Translations:  
> •Drem yol lok - Greetings/peace fire sky  
> •Zu’u fin laat Dovahkiin. Zu fen kos faal Kroniid. Nii los fun ko qostiid. - I am the last Dragonborn. I will be the conqueror. It is told in prophecy.  
> •Paar - ambition  
> •Qahnaarin - vanquisher  
> •zii los dii du - your soul is mine to devour
> 
> Dunmeri Translation:  
> • fetcher - thief (insult)


	12. Songs of the Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [CW: Sexually explicit scenes]
> 
> Guys, this is the last chapter (I think), and can I just say what a JOURNEY this has been. I won't blather on too much before the chapter, but I just wanted to say how grateful I am for all of you that have joined me on this and taken the time to leave amazing comments and helpful critiques. You're all the reason I write. 
> 
> That being said, enjoy the final installment!

_“...like that star of the waning summer who beyond all stars rises bathed in the ocean stream to glitter in brilliance.”_  
**_― Homer,  The Iliad _ **

 

\---

 

Light flickered dimly in the corners of Teldryn’s mind. He felt pulled between two states of being, half awake and half asleep. He heard the dull shrieking of voices, as if from a great distance. The flickering lights turned into fireballs, raining from the sky – the Red Mountain.

 

His eyes snapped open, so suddenly that the images in front of him made no sense. After a moment of intense focus he was able to make out an uneven wood ceiling, flickering firelight dancing across the rough planks. He grunted in an attempt to hear his own voice. Movement stirred beside him.  
“Tel?” a wavering voice asked, hoarse and nervous. Teldryn’s eyes shifted sluggishly to the side, landing on Aerik. The man sat hunched over him, his hands placed across Teldryn’s chest and stomach.

“What happened?” Teldryn managed to croak, throat dry. Aerik reached with shaking hands for a cup of water that sat nearby on a small table.

“We… How much do you remember?” he asked instead. Teldryn shifted his gaze back up to the ceiling, seeing patterns emerge in the wood. _How much did he remember?_

“We were… in the realm of Hermaeus Mora…” he began, straining to remember more. “And…” he trailed off, the memories slipping from his mind like ash sliding through his fingers. Aerik pressed the cup into his hands, helping him sit up to take a drink.

“…Never mind. We’ll talk about it later,” Aerik assured, his brow creased in concern. “Drink.”

“How long have I been like this?” Teldryn asked after a tentative sip, finally taking note of their surroundings. They were in the shaman’s hut, the pit fire burning in the adjacent room cast long shadows across the walls and ceiling. He was laying on one of the fur-lined beds.

“About eight hours…” Aerik sighed, letting his forehead rest against Teldryn’s shoulder. “When we came back… when we… you wouldn’t wake up. I healed you for hours, but…” He felt the man shudder against him.

“Well…” Teldryn rasped, taking a long drink of water. “I’m awake now.” Aerik let out a half-laugh, half-sob, wrapping an arm around his waist. Teldryn leaned into him, planting an unsteady kiss on the top of the man’s head.

“None of that…” he scolded tiredly. Aerik laughed again, squeezing him even tighter. “Tell me what I’ve missed…”

 

Aerik began to recount the events that immediately followed their return from Apocrypha. Apparently, Miraak’s temple collapsed with a resounding bang, almost like a thunder crack, that rippled across the island. Everyone still left under his thrall had been freed. Even for a short while, the clouds and ash surrounding the island’s sky seemed to clear up.

“They’re preparing a burial pyre for Storn,” Aerik continued, remorsefully. “They’re lighting it at sundown… which is in about an hour.” Teldryn nodded stoically, taking another long drink of water before attempting to swing his legs off the bed. The floor was cold against his feet, but otherwise his body felt good, no doubt from Aerik’s extended use of restoration magics. His mind, however, still felt… off. He didn’t want to explain it out loud, lest he worry Aerik, but it was almost as if Hermaeus Mora had wormed one of his nasty tentacles into his brain somehow. He took a moment to breathe deeply, sending a small prayer to Azura, before attempting to stand.

 

Aerik worried over him every step of the way, making Teldryn a little grouchier than he wanted to be.  
“Will you knock it off? You're going to make me trip if you don't get out from under my feet…” he grumbled, strapping into his armor. Aerik huffed loudly through his nose, but otherwise seemed to leave him to his own devices. Once Teldryn was fully dressed, the two made their way out into the center of the Skaal’s village where a large, flat pyre now stood. Teldryn saw Storn’s body amidst the wood, wrapped in furs and packed in with dried flowers and herbs. Frea was standing nearby, holding a torch. Her eyes widened when she saw Teldryn approaching with Aerik.

 

“You are awake!” she exclaimed, walking over to the pair. “We were praying to the All-Maker for your mind to return to us.”

“Yes, well, I very much appreciate that,” Teldryn offered with a small nod. “I am glad I will be able to pay my respects to your father. We couldn’t have done any of this without him.” Frea smiled sadly at him.

“Yes,” she muttered quietly. “I am… coming to an understanding with his sacrifice. If I am to be the shaman of the village, now, then I must take this wisdom from his life and carry it with me.”

“You’ll make a great shaman, Frea,” Aerik offered, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her sad smiled turned to one of warmth.

“And you make a great Dragonborn,” she responded with a small laugh. “This island owes you so much, and so many will not even know your name.”

“That’s… not what it’s about, really.” Aerik shuffled his feet self-consciously.

“Well, you are always welcome here. You as well,” she looked to Teldryn. “Both of you will forever be friends of the Skaal.”

 

She turned from them, striding over to the funeral pyre and began addressing the village. Her voice was soft, but authoritative. The village was silent, listening to her intently – she spoke of Storn’s wisdom, his guidance of the village, and his gentleness as a father. Teldryn felt Aerik slide a hand into his, squeezing tightly. The nearly ever-present wind seemed to have died down, specifically for this moment, as if the All-Maker had stayed it. The pyre lit easily, engulfing Storn’s body and returning him to ashes. Teldryn felt as though he was witnessing something very sacred, and realized that in all his years he had never attended a Nord funeral before. The Skaal began to sing a slow, warbling dirge as the pyre burned, swaying back and forth in front of the blaze. Teldryn tore his eyes away to look above them – the stars were out.

“Y’know…” he began, somewhat startled by his own voice. “Any time you want to head back to Skyrim, I’m right there with you,” he offered, aiming for nonchalance. Aerik’s head whipped around to look at him, golden eyes wide, reflecting the light of the fire.

“Really?”

“Oh yes… I think I’ve seen enough of Solstheim to last a lifetime… _Oof_!” Aerik nearly knocked him over lunging for an embrace. Teldryn laughed, despite the somberness of the situation.

“Yes, yes, come on, now… you’re going to make me fall!”

 

Aerik refused to let go. He pushed his face against the rough chitin armor on Teldryn’s shoulder, holding him tightly as the Skaal continued to sing under the cold, clear skies of Solstheim.

 

\---

 

The passage to Windhelm was choppy, but the wind was at their back. They pulled into port late in the evening, exhausted and a little sea sick. Snow was falling steadily as they unloaded onto the docks, Aerik chatting amicably with the Argonians. Teldryn was dreading seeing the city again. His time living in the wretched place was not one of the brighter periods of his life. Fortunately, thanks to the booze he nearly drowned himself in ever day and night while a citizen, his memories were hazy at best.

“We can get a room at Candlehearth and catch the carriage to Whitetun first thing in the morning,” Aerik planned out loud. “I have a house there.”  
“You have a _house_ in Whiterun? I didn’t know you were so wealthy...”

“Oh it’s not much. It’s quite small. But it’s enough for me,” Aerik grinned. “I think you’ll find it to your liking.”

“My standards are pretty low. All I need is a bed and a fire,” Teldryn joked.

 

Candlehearth Hall was a warm welcome in contrast to the bitter cold of northern Skyrim. Teldryn brushed off some snow that had gathered on his armor as Aerik strode confidently up to the bar.

“Elda, my darling, it’s such a pleasure to be back in your beautiful Inn,” he schmoozed, leaning casually against the bar. “And, might I add, you’re looking quite fit.”

“Flattery _still_ doesn’t get you a free room, Aerik. But I am glad to see you back and in one piece. Now what can I do for you?” the older woman chuckled, leaning on the bar herself.

“The usual, just a room for the night for me and my traveling companion here,” Aerik gestured to Teldryn over his shoulder. Elda eyed him suspiciously.

“Never seen armor like that before…” she mused aloud, straightening up and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Exotic, isn’t it?” Aerik butted in, sliding ten septims across the counter. “Is it the usual room?”

“Yeah… down the hall and to the right.” Elda seemed to be catching on that Aerik was trying to speed things along, but didn’t speak up any further. Teldryn silently followed the man to their quarters. Once inside Aerik closed the door behind them.

“Elda is a sweet old woman, but she… really hates Dunmer,” he explained guiltily. Teldryn shrugged with a sigh.

“I used to live here, remember? I didn’t expect it to be any different than when I left.”

“I can’t stand this city… but I do like some of its people,” Aerik grumbled, starting the process of shedding his armor. The sound of a lute beginning to play upstairs seemed to catch his attention.

“Oh, I wonder who’s playing? Care to join me?”

“I’ll keep my armor on, if you don’t mind,” Teldryn laughed dryly. Aerik smiled flatly, nodding in understanding.

 

They made their way upstairs, the sound of music and chatter increasing. Aerik broke into a trot at the top of the stairs, running towards a slim Dunmer woman who appeared to be the source of the lute playing.

“Aerik!” she exclaimed, a large grin spreading across her face. She set the lute down and ran forward to embrace him. Teldryn once again felt the insidious snake of jealousy coil hotly in his gut, but managed to tame it.

“Luaffyn, my darling. I heard your lute from downstairs. You’ve gotten better since I’ve been gone!” Her pale, almost blue complexion darkened at his complement, an obvious flush creeping across her chest.

“Yes, well… I try to practice every day,” she giggled. Aerik turned away from her to look over to Teldryn.

“Luaffyn, I want you to meet my good friend, Teldryn. He was invaluable on my journey to Solstheim.” He beckoned Teldryn towards him, a sideways smile on his lips.

“Pleasure to meet you, ser,” she bowed politely. Teldryn returned the bow silently. “How long will you be staying in Windhelm?” she asked, returning her attention back to Aerik almost immediately. He made a dismissive gesture with his hands.

“Only for the night. We’re catching the carriage to Whiterun in the morning.” The girl seemed to deflate slightly, but nodded with a strained smile.

“Of course. Always onto the next great adventure… I wish I could travel myself one of these days,” she lamented. Teldryn had to stop the scoff that threatened to emerge, turning it into a soft cough. She was clearly smitten with the damn man, but Aerik was either oblivious or pointedly ignoring it.

“Ah, I’m sure you will one day if that’s what your heart truly desires. Now… can I make a request?”

 

They left the young Dunmer girl to her lute after Aerik asked her to play Ragnar the Red.

“Susanna, two bottles of ale please,” Aerik waved down an incredibly busty Nord woman, who winked knowingly before wordlessly turning to fetch the drinks. Teldryn couldn’t help but watch the way her hips swayed as she left.

“My, my… aren’t you the popular one around here,” he chuckled, taking a seat next to the Nord at one of the back tables. It was interesting to see him in his element.

“I blame my Bardic training,” he grinned, crossing a leg across his knee and leaning back in his seat.

“Yes, well it seems you have nearly every woman in this place wrapped around your finger.”

“Next I just need to work on the men,” he winked. “But, as you know, the Nords in this city have an eternal stick up their ass.”

“Like the one over there giving you a particularly nasty look?” Teldryn asked, tilting his head towards a man that sat near the center fireplace.

“Ahh… yeah, like him. That’s Rolff. I actually told you about him… he’s the guy I beat up for threatening a Dunmer woman in front of me,” Aerik grinned shamelessly. "In my defense, he's the one that suggested we brawl. He lost his dignity and one hundred septims."

“That explains the evil eye, then,” Teldryn chuckled lowly. Susanna returned with their drinks and Aerik slipped a few septims into her hand.

“Is your friend Dunmer?” she asked, surprisingly without any malice. Aerik nodded easily.

“This is Teldryn. He used to live in the city, but it’s been a while.” She turned to address Teldryn specifically.

“Well you two would be better off at the New Gnisis Cornerclub. They have better drinks there anyways. I’ll be heading that way once I get off work if you'd like to join me,” she offered, and Teldryn couldn’t help but feel like there was a _bit_ more to the offer than just the promise of good company.

“We’ll keep that in mind, but honestly the passage from Solstheim has us absolutely knackered,” Aerik answered for them, smiling kindly. “But thank you for the invitation and your kindness. Your beauty is a breath of fresh air in this stuffy tavern,” he waxed poetically. She giggled, smacking him playfully on his shoulder before shooting Teldryn another glance and sauntering off.  

 

“She has a thing for Dunmer…” Aerik mumbled lowly behind his hand.

“Then I’m sure you both have _plenty_ to talk about,” Teldryn shot back, earning himself a shit-eating grin. The both clinked the necks of their ales together before taking a long swig, Teldryn carefully keeping his chin as covered as he could.

“New Gnisis Cornerclub?”

“Ah yeah, it’s a bar in the Gray Quarter. Not too bad, just a bit shabby.”

“Uhg, I don’t think I’d have the strength to go to that wretched part of the city tonight,” Teldryn groaned, taking another swig of the Nord ale. It was bitter but herbaceous, heavy on the hops, and quintessentially Skyrim in a bottle.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to. Plus I’d much rather have you all to myself tonight,” Aerik grinned lecherously.

“Hmm, not very good at sharing then?” the mer teased, rolling the neck of his ale bottle between his fingertips. Aerik shook his head firmly, smiling slyly as he raised his own bottle to his lips.  

 

Aerik gave one last hug to Luaffyn, promising to return to visit again soon, before the two made their way back downstairs to their room for the evening. Once the door clicked shut behind them, Aerik was lifting Teldryn’s helmet off his head and tossing it onto an end table. He ran his fingers through the mer’s short, spiky hair with a satisfied hum as Teldryn snaked his arms around Aerik’s waist, pulling their hips together. He was looking at Teldryn with such hunger and intensity that it gave Teldryn just a moment’s pause.

“Aerik,” he rumbled as the Nord’s mouth found the soft hollow just behind his jaw, pressing his tongue to the heated skin there. “Without… ruining the moment, I would like to talk about what happened a few nights ago.” He felt Aerik’s breath against the nape of his neck as the man exhaled loudly.

“Do we have to?” he nearly whined, causing Teldryn to chuckle.

“No, we don’t _have_ to… but I would like to,” he reasoned, pulling back a bit to look the Nord in the eyes. Aerik looked tired. Teldryn was sure that he did as well. Hermaeus Mora was still buried in the back of his mind, lurking in the darker parts of his dreams, keeping him from a restful sleep. Aerik sighed again, pulling away to walk across the room and sit on the bed, slouching.

“What do you want to know?”

 

Teldryn began to take the rest of his armor off, starting with his bracers.

“It’s not necessarily what I want to know, but more so what I _should_ know. What are you willing to tell me?” he offered, not looking or focusing directly on Aerik in an attempt to give the man the space to talk. There was a long pause as Teldryn began to unstrap his chest plate.

“Well… I… had a lot of things running through my head that night,” he began, calculated and solemn. “I was just hoping… for a distraction more than anything. I was scared shitless of facing Miraak… I just wanted to forget for a night and have a down and dirty fuck.” He paused and Teldryn could feel his eyes on him as he let the armor slide from his back, setting it down neatly on the table next to his helmet.

“But then you… then we… it just… changed. And you were so gentle and it felt like you _cared_ about me, and then it just made me realize that I couldn’t actually remember when I’d been in bed with someone that treated me like that or even wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to hurt when we…” He broke off with a frustrated noise. He was rambling, clearly. Teldryn turned around to see that he'd doubled over, holding his head in his hands fitfully.

“And on top of it all I just felt like I really didn’t… _deserve_ that. This is really… _really_ difficult to put into words,” he laughed tightly, sitting up to look at Teldryn. “And I’m good at putting things into words.”

 

Teldryn slowly strode over to where Aerik sat, reaching a hand out to caress the side of his face. The man leaned into his touch like a cat, closing his eyes and sighing heavily.

“Well, let me be frank with you,” he began, voice low. “I am interested in this. In you. And I take relationships I pursue quite seriously. If you would prefer that we have a purely physical relationship, I might be able to agree for a while... But I need to know where you stand.” Aerik shifted against his hand, looking up at him with wide, adoring eyes.

“You are so very… refreshing,” he sighed with a soft smile. Teldryn stroked a thumb across his cheek.

“And you are incredibly annoying,” he laughed affectionately. “But also… incredibly deserving, Aerik,” he murmured.

 

Aerik swiftly rose to his feet, bending his head to capture Teldryn’s mouth with his own, kissing him fiercely.

“Same goes for you, you bastard,” he growled against Teldryn’s mouth before kissing him again. “And yes,” he said between another kiss. “I am interested… in this. All of this.”  

“Good,” Teldryn managed before neither of them wanted to use their mouths for talking.

 

Clothes were shed, candles extinguished, and somehow Teldryn ended up on his knees between Aerik’s thighs as the man sat perched on the edge of the bed, looking down at him with the awe usually reserved for Aedra. In the low light of only a few remaining candles, he placed slow, firm kisses along the inside of the man’s legs, working his way up. Aerik was breathing heavily, watching Teldryn’s every move, one hand placed on the back of the mer’s neck.

“I’ll warn you, I’m probably not very good at this…” Teldryn rumbled against his thigh before taking Aerik’s length into his left hand. Aerik groaned.

“Just the fact that it’s _you_ is brilliant…” he assured, eyes fluttering closed as Teldryn stroked him firmly once before tentatively taking the head into his mouth.

“Gods…” Aerik groaned, leaning back slightly, hand still firmly at the base of Teldryn’s neck. To say it had been years since the Dunmer been on the giving end of oral sex would be incorrect… it had been _decades_. But apparently, sucking cock is just like riding a horse – you never really forget how. Teldryn bobbed up and down, hollowing out his cheeks and using his hand to work the remainder of the shaft he couldn’t fit in his mouth. He didn’t just enjoy it; he absolutely _reveled_ in it. The ache in his jaw and the pressure in his knees were well worth the strung-out, blissful noises Aerik was making.

“Fuck, you’re good at that,” Aerik hissed as Teldryn pulled off and licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock. “Were you lying to just… throw me off, or did you forget what an absolute prodigy you were?”

“You _do_ realize you already have me sucking your cock and that flattery is completely unnecessary at this point…” Teldryn chuckled hoarsely, looking up at the man as he gave the head of his cock a teasing kiss.

“Get up here,” Aerik nearly growled, and the mer wasn’t going to protest. His knees, however, did protest quite a bit, creaking painfully as he pushed himself up to stand.

“I think I’m too old to be on my knees,” he sighed, letting Aerik pull him down onto the bed.

“We’ll get creative with positioning, then. Lie back. I’d like to actually ride you this time.”

 

Aerik was already slicking up Teldryn’s dick, his other hand preparing himself.

“Don’t rush… I don’t want it to hurt,” Teldryn couldn’t help but add, and Aerik gave him a flat sort of look.

“I’m going to go slow, don’t worry. But sometimes I like it a little rough…” he smirked, rising higher on his knees to line himself up. He definitely wasn’t exaggerating when he said he would go slowly. It took a concerted effort for Teldryn to refrain from pushing up into the man as he inched ever so slightly down onto his length, pulling back every now and then before taking a bit more. With the help of some deep breathing, Teldryn still managed not to move even after Aerik had taken his entire length. He placed a still somewhat oily hand on Teldryn’s chest, eyes closed in concentration, before he straightened up, sinking even further down. Teldryn hissed, his hands tightening their grip on Aerik’s thighs.

“By the Nine…” Teldryn groaned, earning a chuckle from Aerik.

“How kind of you to include Talos, and in Ulfric’s city,” he teased, grinding his hips in a small circle before lifting himself up slightly and sliding back down. Teldryn didn’t have a witty reply – he was too busy _feeling_. Aerik was hot and tight around him, and the confidence he was exuding was nothing like their night in the tent. The man clearly liked to top from the bottom, as one might say. He kept his pace torturously slow, despite Teldryn’s insistent grasping hands, trying to drive him down onto his dick faster, harder. Anything.

“I thought you liked it rough…” he finally managed to growl, reaching up to grab Aerik by the hair and pull his face down for a forceful kiss.

“I also like to tease,” he murmured after Teldryn relinquished his mouth.

“Well I think you’ve done quite enough of that…”

 

The Dunmer shifted his position, sliding down slightly, and pulling Aerik forward. Adjusting for leverage, he quickly snapped his hips up, pushing a breathy cry out of the man on top of him.

“Mmm… more of those sounds,” Teldryn growled, his grip on Aerik’s hair tightening as he began to set a new pace. He drove into the man at a frenzied rate, all patience gone, hungry for pleasure. Each snap of their hips caused Aerik to cry out, pressing his face against Teldryn’s, biting down on an earlobe, breathing heavily. His dick was trapped between their stomachs, stimulated with every thrust.

“Ffffuck… I’m gonna… Tel…” Aerik whined, fisting the furs on the bed beneath them before coming with an extended shout, muffling his cries against the furs. Teldryn continued to piston his hips, even as Aerik mewled, overly sensitive and wrung out. His release wasn’t far behind. Squeezing his eyes shut, he came with a series of low, hoarse growls as he milked himself into Aerik’s ass, stars bursting behind his eyelids.

 

Teldryn gasped raggedly as he slowly came back to his senses. The muscles over his stomach ached and the backs of his thighs were beginning to cramp. Aerik was laughing somewhat deliriously on top of him, attempting to push himself into an upright position.

“Steady as she goes…” he huffed, gently easing himself off Teldryn’s dick with a low grunt. He swung off the bed and shuffled around the room in the Dunmer’s periphery, most likely cleaning up the mess that was surely leaking out of his ass.

“Come back…” Teldryn panted, sounding a bit more pathetic than he’d intended. Aerik chuckled, but returned to his side after a moment, gently cleaning him with a damp cloth before settling down along side him on the bed. He pressed his face into the crook of Teldryn’s neck, intertwining their legs.

“That’s much closer to the impression I’d like you to have of me,” Aerik sighed, planting a series of kisses along the side of Teldryn’s jaw.

“Consider it a job well done,” Teldryn rumbled with low laughter, covering his eyes with one hand. Aerik moved to kiss him, full of potential and promise, before pulling one of the spare fur blankets over top the two of them. Luaffyn’s lute was still distantly playing in the background as Teldryn fell nearly immediately into a deep, contented sleep. Dreamless.

 

\---

 

The carriage to Whiterun was bumpy, but not unpleasant. The sun was still asleep when they got to the stables, the carriage driver having just taken his post. The snow fell steadily, but not aggressively as they drove. Teldryn held a small fireball of magic in his palm, warming them both against the biting chill. About a half hour west of Windhelm the snow began to stop, stars peeking their way through intermittent clouds, the sky slowly lightening from deep blue to a soft twilight. Teldryn sighed, leaning back against the side of the carriage, letting his head fall back against one of the wooden posts. His helmet sat at his side, allowing the cold air to keep him alert. Aerik sat across from him, gazing pensively behind them, watching as the cobbled road faded off into the distance.

 

“Y’know…” Aerik laughed, “I don’t think I’ve told you yet about the time I was almost executed.” Teldryn’s head snapped back up to look at Aerik.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s true,” he grinned. “You’ve bedded a dirty criminal.”

“And what, pray tell, was this crime?” Teldryn leaned forward eagerly.

“Wrong place, wrong time.”

“… Well... that’s rather anticlimactic.”

“I was sent to the chopping block before Ulfric Stormcloak. You’d think they’d want to cut his head off first.”

“You were there with _Ulfric Stormcloak_? You’re going to have to elaborate, because this is baffling…” Teldryn guffawed, crossing his arms.

 

“Well… I was on the run, if I’m honest. Not in a lawless kind of way, but my mother had just passed, so… I wanted out of Skyrim. Onto the next adventure, you know? I had been traveling for about three weeks, heading straight south from Solitude, skirting around Markarth. I wanted to try to make it to Hammerfel, then to Elsweyr, live amongst the Khajiit, learn their culture, become a trader… In retrospect I was clearly having a crisis,” he chuckled. “Can you imagine me? A caravan trader? But it was just so different from what I had been, the life I’d been leading, so it was all I could think about.

“Anyways, I got mixed up in an Imperial Ambush of a Stormcloak camp as I was trying to cross the southern border. They took me for a rebel soldier, I suppose… But the next thing I know, I’m waking up in the back of a cart with Ulfric Stormcloak gagged and tied up across from me, heading for Helgen.”

“Wait,” Teldryn interjected, holding up a hand. “Helgen… why is that familiar?” Aerik smirked.

“Because it was the site of the first dragon attack.” He grinned wickedly. “Alduin showed up right before the ax came down on my head. He’s probably kicking himself for that. If he’d let them off me, then he’d most certainly be sitting pretty, bringing all of his dragon mates back to life. Set to devour the world and what have you. But no… he had to accidentally save the one person who can consume a dragon’s soul and effectively stop his return. Poetic, really.”

 

Teldryn was a bit speechless.

“To say you’re lucky would be an incredible understatement,” he finally spoke, leaning back and crossing his arms again. Aerik shrugged, his smile somewhat melancholy.  

“Sometimes I don’t feel very lucky… but when I really look back on my life, I mean _really_ think about it, it’s amazing to see how everything has just sort of… fallen into place.”

“Hmm,” Teldryn nodded at that. “If I may, from the perspective of someone who has lived a full life…”  
  
“As my elder?” Aerik teased.

“None of that…” Teldryn grinned through his annoyed expression, smacking the man’s knee lightly.

 

“The longer you live, which could be longer for you than most, considering both your heritage and the fact that you’re Dragonborn,” he paused, thinking of the best way to word this. “The longer you live, the more you see… the pattern of it all, I suppose would be the best way to put it. The paths your life has taken, the people you meet, the choices you make. In the end, it’s hard to believe that it wasn’t all planned out from the start. For instance, if someone had told me one hundred years ago that in two-oh-one of the fourth era I’d be sitting in the back of a cart, headed for Whiterun, and the lover of the prophesized Dragonborn… I’d probably think Sheogorath had rotted their brains. But here I am. And it just seems like an odd, inevitable conclusion to all the events in my life leading up to this.”

“So we’re lovers?” Aerik asked with a smirk.

“Is that all you got from all that?” Teldryn sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes. Aerik rose from his seat to quickly slide across the cart and sit next to Teldryn, pulling the mer’s hands away from his face to give him a firm kiss.  

 

The sun was cresting the mountains to their back, casting long pink rays across the countryside. The snow was beginning to fade, giving way to long stretches of pastures and rolling hills. Dragon’s Reach was visible in the hazy distance; they were probably only an hour or so away from the city’s gate.

“Well, I have to say I’m rather pleased that all the events in my life thus far have lead up to this exact moment. Even with the terrifying unknown that lies ahead,” Aerik sighed, putting one arm around Teldryn’s shoulders as he leaned back against the side of the carriage.

“I’ll be right here, anywhere I can follow,” Teldryn promised lowly, and by the Gods he _meant_ it.

“Thank you,” Aerik nearly whispered, pressing his forehead against Teldryn’s.

 

The cloudless sky continued to brighten, the shadows of the night receding like curling fingers back into the dips and juts of the landscape. Soft bird songs could be heard from the tall meadow grasses on either side of the road. Teldryn rested a hand on Aerik’s thigh and closed his eyes. He hummed lowly to himself, feeling Aerik smile against his temple.

 

 

 _For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows,_  
_You'll know, you'll know the dragonborn's come._

 

 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ)
> 
> That's my story, y'all. 
> 
> I have a little epilogue stirring around in my head, so there maaaay be one final chapter in the works, but we'll see how things play out.  
> Thanks again for taking the time to read my little contribution to this fandom! I love you all each individually I s2g I LOVE U ALL SO MUCH. This has been so much fun.
> 
> If you like my shit and want to read more in the Skyrim universe, I have another series following my Khajiit Dragonborn, Azarahd, that's in the works called "In Search of Nine Lives". (It's mostly an excuse to have him slut his way through Skyrim, but there's been a plot emerging under all that porn). It's a good time and will probably be what I update the most going forward. 
> 
> Stay weird, good people. Azura guide you. (´∀｀)♡


	13. Epilogue

Teldryn woke slowly, a luxury these days. The sun was streaming in through the rippled glass windows of their upper story bedroom, dust motes drifting lazily through the air. He stretched languidly, breathing deeply and basking in the silence of the late morning. Aerik stirred gently beside him, one arm draped heavily across his chest as the man continued to doze. Teldryn smiled fondly at him, leaning over to plant a kiss against his temple. Aerik made sleepy noises, bringing a hand up to caress Teldryn’s face. The silver and ruby ring on his wedding finger caught the morning sun as he then rolled back over to seek a few more blessed moments of rest.

 

It had been a little over four years since they’d first met on Solstheim, and only a year since Aerik had defeated Alduin. Though dragons still roamed the skies, the eminent threat of world-ending terror was abated. As it stood, life had returned to a slower pace to Skyrim, despite the civil war that still raged within her borders. Teldryn was more than happy to keep his, and his husband’s, nose out of the politics that plagued the land, helping only when deemed absolutely necessary.

 

He sat up on the edge of the bed, leaning back to run a hand through Aerik’s now short-cropped hair before getting to his feet and beginning his morning stretch routing. Still shirtless, he jogged down the stairs to the sounds of Whiterun’s morning hustle and bustle just outside the front door. Lydia stirred faintly upstairs as he busied himself with stoking the hearth fire, content to prepare breakfast for the household.

 

A sudden knock at the door jarred him out of his reverie, immediately putting him on edge. Cautiously, he approached the front door, opening it only a crack.

“Letter for Aerik Havardr?” the courier on the doorstep squawked timidly. Teldryn sighed, opening the door a bit wider. The Nord courier looked him up and down, an expression of slight worry on his features, eyes lingering briefly on the ring on his finger.

“I’ll make sure it gets to him,” Teldryn assured, voice still hoarse from sleep, as he took the letter from the courier’s hand.

“Right… well, that’s it. Gotta go…” and the man was off without a single glance over his shoulder. Teldryn closed the door, turning the letter over in his hand. The seal wasn’t any that he recognized. He sat the envelope on the small table next to the hearth and returned to heating the fires for breakfast.

 

Once the cooking pot was fully heated and simmering with porridge, Teldryn stepped lightly back up the stairs, nodding amicably to Lydia as she emerged, bleary eyed, from her room. He silently padded into his own room, closing the door behind him. Aerik still seemed to be asleep, one arm thrown over his face to block the sun.

“Who was at the door?” he asked groggily.

“So you’ve been awake for a while, then?” Teldryn chuckled, strolling over to the bed and sitting down on Aerik’s side. The man shifted his arm, peering up at his husband with one, sleepy eye.

“Awake is subjective… I just heard the knock at the door and you responding.”

“It was the courier.”

“Great…” Aerik huffed, recovering his face with the crook of his elbow. “What now?”

“Letter for you, my love,” Teldryn grinned, dropping the envelope on Aerik’s chest before rising once more and shuffling through their wardrobe to dress for the day.

 

Aerik sat up slowly, rubbing his fists against his eyes before rolling his neck from side to side, an audible crack reaching Teldryn’s ears. He broke the seal of the letter as he swung his legs off the bed, taking a moment to read it in silence.

 

There was still no explanation after a long moment’s pause. Teldryn turned from where he was getting dressed to look over at Aerik’s pale, hunched form. His back was mottled with even more scars than when they’d first met, badges of his various victories over the years.

“Who’s it from, love?” he prompted, padding over to where Aerik still sat on the side of the bed. The man was unnaturally silent.

“Aerik?”   
  
“It’s…” the man swallowed, still holding the letter out in front of him. “It says... it’s from someone…” He was stammering, flipping the letter over several times to re-examine the seal.

“What is it?” Teldryn pressed, voice laced with concern as he placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder. Aerik looked up at him, eyes wide in shock.

“It’s… it’s someone I’ve never hear of, but… it says… they know who my father is…” he murmured. Teldryn stood a little straighter, the hand on Aerik’s shoulder tightening reflexively.

 

“And that he’s headed for Skyrim.”  

 

 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooohhhhh SHIT motherfuckers! 
> 
> That's right. I fucking planned out an entire sequel. Because I both love and hate myself.   
> No projected date for when it will be posted - as of right now it's only an outline... but I love these characters and want to give them more chances to really come to life. (Not to mention I've seen a huge improvement in my writing from beginning to end of this story, so I want to keep that up). 
> 
> Buckle up, friendos. (｀∀´)ゝ”


	14. Artwork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! 
> 
> THE SEQUEL IS LIVE. [You can read it here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18331856/chapters/43396787)! 
> 
> I figured, for those of you who don't follow me on Tumblr (or didn't know that I had one), that I would share some of my art on here of my two favorite bois!  
> I'm hoping to incorporate some of my art into the sequel and maybe try to sketch out some of the scenes, even just as a challenge to myself/try to keep my skills up.
> 
> Anyhoo, thanks so much to everyone who's been along for the ride! I never thought this story would take off the way it did, much less inspire a whole other plot. You're all beautiful and I love you. 
> 
> ~Topsy


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